Jagged Little Tapestry
by deathsweetqueen
Summary: My various one-shots/drabbles that are also cross-posted to my Tumblr. Majority are Klaroline, but would inevitably revolve around either Caroline or Bonnie or Katherine in some way.
1. 500 Miles (Klaroline)

**500 Miles**

 **In which Caroline breaks a heel and Klaus has to carry her.**

 **So, this is my first foray into the Klaroline drabbles territory and I thought Klaroweek would be the perfect time to try this out and I'm really excited about it. This started off as a drabble, but turned out to be more of a oneshot than anything. So, please be kind and don't forget to tell me what you think!**

It all started with a simple snap in the neck of the woods, her feet skidding across a stray rock that lined the forest floor. Caroline groaned as she tumbled to the floor, her knee cracking against the floor as she fell. Klaus was at her side in a moment, crouching beside her, with his hand splayed across the small of her back, the heat of him bleeding into her back.

"Are you okay, love?" Klaus asked, lowly, his voice like liquid heat in her ears, the scruffiness of his jaw tickling her cheek.

"Yeah," Caroline sighed, sliding to her feet with a muffled grunt, twisting her sore ankle in both directions until she was sure it didn't hurt anymore. "My stupid shoe broke."

Klaus sighed and hooked his arm around her waist, hauling her up against his body. When she put weight on her foot, she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips, crumpling once more. She would've fallen to the floor had Klaus not grabbed her right before it happened. Caroline groaned, twisting her foot and wincing at the sharp pain that shot up her leg as it twisted in an uncomfortable and therefore, pain-inducing direction.

Steadying Caroline's hand on his shoulder, Klaus crouched down on one knee, propping up Caroline's injured foot on his thigh. His thumbs stroked across the delicate curve of her ankle, along the arch where her ankle met her foot, feeling his heart ache when she visibly winced at the pain of his touch. He clucked his tongue and set her foot back on the ground, swooping up and lifting Caroline off her feet. In a second, she was on his back, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands hooked around her thighs, holding her against his waist, while her arms were looped around his neck.

Caroline dipped her head down, her blonde hair tickling his face, her nose brushing against the stubble that she so loved to feel against her skin when he decided that personal space wasn't something very high on his priorities list.

"Seriously?" She muttered, half in offence.

Klaus snorted, not faltering for a moment after hearing the edginess in her voice. "Your shoe broke. This was the best way to get you through these woods without you throwing a hissy fit every five seconds."

A shriek of outrage built up in Caroline's throat, which she furiously bit down, instead choosing to dig her nails into the soft flesh of Klaus' throat in a blatant passive-aggressive move.

"I would _not_ throw a hissy fit!" Caroline protested.

"Experience says otherwise, love." Klaus said, pointedly.

"Ugh, you are such a jerk!" Caroline growled, her head lolling onto his shoulder. "Why did I agree to come with you to see this witch in the first place?" She snapped.

"Well, because you're madly in love with me," Klaus ignored the way Caroline scoffed. "And you just don't want to admit it. Not to mention, you like being my portable conscience at these little meetings. It gives you a certain high to stop me from ripping out peoples' hearts for incompetence that I can barely stand on a good day. But you seem to have a knack for accommodating incompetence on a daily basis, if that's all that can be said by the company you keep." He paused. "You need new friends." He said, blithely.

"What I need is an Original hybrid who carries me on his back without complaints and smartass comments every other second." Caroline grumbled.

"I wouldn't complain if I were you." Klaus gave her a withering look. "I don't see any other potential suitors here, waiting, eagerly, to carry you the entire way."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be such a baby. What do you expect? Would you prefer if it I walked barefoot on all of the rocks and twigs and creepy insects that could bite me? Then, I'd probably get some weird disease and I'd fall down dead. Is that what you want, Klaus? Huh? Is it?"

If she were in a position to do so, her hands would be crossed over her chest and she would be giving him her trademark 'I know you think you're funny and really witty, but all you are is a smartass and I really don't appreciate it right now and we both know you don't plan on doing any of the things you're threatening me with' look.

Klaus sighed. "Nonetheless, love, would it have killed you to wear more hiking-appropriate footwear? No matter how delicious your legs look in those pretty little heels."

Caroline gave a disgusted sound. "Okay, _pervert_ ," She stressed the word. "It's nice to know you obviously _ogle_ your travelling companions. Remind to never go anywhere with you again. Ever." She snapped.

Klaus squeezed her thigh, making Caroline squeak in surprise, determinedly ignoring the way her stomach clenched at the simple action. "Don't be cross, love. You know I'd never do anything that would offend you. I only think the best of you. All I was wondering was why you thought it would be good to wear heels on a quest that required hiking." He said, as sweet as he could muster, hoping that his tone was enough to suggest that honey was dripping from his lips.

Caroline wiped a stray wave of hair away from her face, as the anger shot right through her. "Hey, so sue for me for trying to at least look _hot_ on this stupid trip to see some witch who lives in the middle of some backwater swamp. I mean, seriously?" She exclaimed. "What kind of witch expects people to come and visit her if they have to trek through the freaking woods to actually get to her house?" She paused. "And those 'pretty little heels'…" She mocked. "…happen to be freaking designer wear, very chic and very pricey. Not that you'd know anything about that." She said, spitefully. "Just because your idea of a fashion statement begins and ends with a Henley and rustic necklaces doesn't mean-" Caroline began, hotly.

"To be fair, love, you don't need a pair of unnecessary heels for you to look… hot. If I may say so myself, you look 'hot'-"

" _Don't_ … finish that sentence." Caroline said, sharply.

Klaus hid a smile behind an apologetic quirk of his lips, his head ducking down to display his regret at his unfortunately timed comment. "And if we're being critical about fashion sense, I would like to point out to you that one of those heels that you so modestly call 'chic' and 'pricey' happens to be lying on the forest floor a mile behind us." He smirked.

Caroline paused. "Oh, shut up." She grumbled.

* * *

Caroline groaned, the heat of the sun blistering against her skin as the canopy above them parted. It were times like this she was thankful for her Daylight ring. She had experienced the burning heat of the sun on her skin without one and she had no desire to ever experience that pain again. Ever.

"Are we there yet?" Caroline asked, wearily, resting her chin on Klaus' muscled shoulder.

Which she absolutely did not recognise. Whatsoever. Nor did she fondle, sneakily. Because that would be wrong. He was Klaus, of all people. And she didn't like him. At all.

 _Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Caroline._

"Love," Klaus blew out an irritated breath out of his clenched teeth. "Just because you ask me that question every few minutes doesn't mean that we reach the witch any quicker."

"Why don't you just whoosh to her place?" Caroline complained. "Aren't you an almighty Hybrid? Can't you just vamp-speed us to her place in like a minute and save us all of this time of having to hike through the freaking woods?"

"Well, in normal circumstances, I would." Klaus said, patiently, shifting her weight slightly to the side, enjoying the way that her arms and legs tightened around him. "But I may have… upset… this particular witch a few years back, and she placed a boundary spell around her home. And I do not have the precise location of where the boundary begins. So, if I were to 'vamp-speed' us to her door, it would result in me hitting a metaphorical brick wall and being knocked on my arse." He growled.

Caroline giggled, a warm sound in his ear that sent tingles shooting up and down his spine, a feeling that he wasn't too eager to analyse. "Now, I'd pay to watch that." She said, playfully.

Klaus growled low in his throat.

Caroline smacked him on the shoulder. "Oh, come on, Klaus. I'm only joking. You know I'd prefer it if it were me who's knocking you on your ass." She smirked. "So, what did you do? To the witch, I mean."

Klaus would have rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly, if he could.

"Oh, my God." Caroline breathed. "You killed someone she cared about, didn't you? Why do I expect anything different from you?" She shook her head in disbelief at her own naivety.

"It wasn't that simple." Klaus said, defensively, feeling his own righteousness rise up in response to her skilfully placed admonishment.

"Oh?" Caroline raised an eyebrow, knowing fully well that he couldn't see the action. "So explain to me how it was complicated, Klaus." She said, challengingly.

Klaus hid the fact that her blatant defiance of his actions sent a strange sort of thrill rushing through him, a thrill that had been non-existent in his life until a blonde baby vampire with no sense of self-preservation, a smile that beamed like the sun and golden hair that made her porcelain skin glow, had stumbled into his life, behind pursed, annoyed lips. There were times when her insolence made him want to do nothing but reach through inches of flesh and bone and blood and pull out her heart as proof of his superiority, but those times, few and far in between, were far eclipsed by the wonder of such a being existing in this world. Honest and loyal to a fault, no underhanded techniques and no ulterior motives – as the people he had chosen to surround himself with for a thousand years, never faltering in her convictions for a single moment.

"So, come on, out with it, what did you do?" Caroline asked.

"I, uh…" Klaus visibly hesitated. "I may have… killed her brother." He said, lowly.

Caroline threw her hands up in the air. "Of course you did." She snapped. She felt a shard of shame slice through her heart. "I don't even know why I bother to think better of you, Klaus. You never meet me half way." She said, darkly.

"Perhaps you should let me explain before you come to all of your conclusions." Klaus said, coldly, the anger and regret in Caroline's blue-green eyes slamming, painfully, directly into his undead heart.

Caroline clenched her teeth, grinding them together. "Fine." She spat. "Tell me what happened."

"I heard a rumour about a witch with a special knack for locator spells." Klaus explained. "And I thought she may be able to assist me in searching out the doppelganger."

Caroline's brow furrowed. "The doppelganger? But I thought…" She frowned. "You were looking for Elena even that far back?" She asked, confused. "I thought you didn't know she existed until recently."

"I didn't." He nodded, pride at her intelligence warming in him. "I wasn't speaking of Elena. When I said 'doppelganger', I was referring to Katerina."

Caroline grimaced. "Right. Katherine."

"So, I visited her in this very neck of the woods." Klaus said, lowly. "You see, this woman is a bit of a hermit. Doesn't stray too far from her little hut in the forest. Hunts and cooks all of her food at home. So, I thought it best to come to her and have her do the locator spell."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "'Have her do the locator spell'?" She said, mockingly. "What, did you expect her to do it the second you told her to?" She asked, spitefully, a hot anger burning in her stomach.

Klaus grinned widely, a boyish smile flitting onto his face that Caroline could easily see perched on his back, the innocence of the action causing an unwilling smile to curve on her pink lips at the gentle tease. She realised what she was doing, her reaction to him clear on her face, and she bit down her smile, turning her head away with a huff before he could see what he had provoked in her and start getting even more silly ideas that they would end up together.

"You may not have realised this yet, sweetheart, but I am very good at getting what I want."

"Not everything." Caroline sniffed.

The grin widened. "Don't worry, love. I have every belief that you will soon become mine."

Caroline snorted. "You're delusional."

Klaus held a hand to his heart. "Your words hurt, Caroline."

"That's not all that'll hurt if you don't stop trying to get on my nerves." Caroline said, threateningly.

Klaus pursed his lips to hide the smile that wanted to spread across his face at her adorable threat. She reminded him of an angry kitten, her face scrunched up, her eyes warning him off. He had the sudden urge to kiss her on the mouth and feel her tremble under his ministrations.

He cleared his throat, his blood rushing and his skin warming at the wicked turn to his thoughts. "Anyway,"

His voice was a low growl: strained and tense with longing. For her. Always for her. Since that damnable night he decided to use her as a pawn in his little game with Stefan – to punish him for daring to go up against him and steal his coffins from right under his nose –, a prospective toy in his desire to lay siege to Mystic Falls and take the town as his own. To establish control over a town he couldn't truthfully stand, Caroline had become collateral damage in bringing her mother onto his side. He hadn't regretted it then, but the defiance sticking to her sweat-stricken face, lying in bed with a raw, bloody werewolf bite on her neck, her eyes filled with nothing but hatred and terror for him, the honesty and slight desperation in her words, something in the little blonde vampire had enchanted him from that moment and he hadn't be able to rip her out of his veins ever since.

"I was quite appeasing at first." He said, mollified. "Charming and cautious. I never threatened her once. You may find this hard to believe, but I don't always resort to threats to get what I want. I can be charming when I want to."

Caroline snorted. "Don't I know it?"

Klaus smirked. "Is that your backhanded way of telling me that you find me charming, Caroline, love?" He asked, playfully.

"Shut up." Caroline said, sharply. "Continue with the story."

"How can I continue with the story if I shut-"

Caroline dug her sharp nails into the juncture between his throat and shoulders. "Don't be a smartass. Keep going." She said, warningly.

"Well, at first, she was willing to help me. Got out all of the necessary ingredients and everything. Of course, the cash in my wallet only quickened her preparation." Klaus chuckled. His eyes turned stormy. "And then her brother waltzed in at just the correct time."

Caroline groaned and tipped her head back, the sunlight gleaming on her creamy, soft skin, her eyes and hair sparkling in the bright light. "Oh, God." She moaned, shaking her head, resisting the urge to smack her forehead with the open side of her palm. "What happened?" She said, grimacing as if she knew the story was about to take a bad turn.

"He took one look at me and started shouting for all the world to hear." Klaus shrugged. "He wasn't a witch, you see. And I suppose he was always a bit jealous of his sister's abilities. He wasn't really fussed that she was doing a favour for me. He was more upset about the fact that she was young girl in her early twenties, entertaining a man in her home without any supervision."

Caroline snorted. "When was this, the Fifties?" She joked.

"Actually, yes." Klaus said, slowly.

Caroline blinked and tipped her head forward, her blonde waves tickling Klaus' cheek and stubble – a gesture which he most certainly curved into as slyly as possible, his eyes briefly falling shut as the scent of the lavender in her hair and milk and honey on her skin drifting to his heightened Hybrid senses, as she leaned over his shoulder, her lips grazing the curve of his ear, unbeknownst to her.

"No. Freaking. Way." Caroline breathed, a giggle rising in her throat. She barked out a laugh, a blinding smile appearing on her pink lips. "You met this witch chick in the 1950s?"

"It was 1957, I believe." Klaus corrected. "So, I think she's in her early seventies now."

"Oh, great," Caroline muttered under her breath. "An _old_ witch who's the only one who can help us, but happens to have a bone to pick with you. We're definitely going to pull this off."

Klaus clucked his tongue. "Love, what did I tell you about being optimistic?" At the picture of rage induced on Caroline's face, Klaus cleared his throat, awkwardly, and decided to change the subject before she had a fit and tried to rip his head off. "Anyway, he raged at her for being in the company of such a _rogue_ and for acting in the manner of a harlot," He couldn't help but smirk. "And then he called me a few choice words, words that I will not repeat in the presence of a lady-"

"You know I'm eighteen and I've had two eighteen-year-old boyfriends, right?" Caroline raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing that guy could've said that I haven't heard before, trust me." She rolled her eyes.

"Nevertheless," Klaus said, lowly. "I was taught that basic manners dictated that I should never speak in such a way in front of a lady and I intend to adhere to that, unlike your previous suitors who have shown they have no clue of how to treat a lady." He said, formally. "Of course, if we were in the right _circumstances_ , I would never be so conservative." He growled.

The innuendo wetted his words and Caroline furiously stamped down on the rush of blood into her cheeks at the wicked purr that his voice had adopted, her stomach clenching at the more racy thoughts his comment provoked.

"Shut up." Caroline mumbled, half-heartedly. "So, you killed him because he insulted you?" She scowled, remembering the turn the story had taken.

"He mouthed off at me and he was insulting an innocent girl in my presence." Klaus said, defensively. "Was I just supposed to stand there and take it?"

"God!" Caroline scoffed, shaking her head. "You are so full of yourself." She paused. "So, what happened next?" She asked, quickly, trying her hardest to hide the spark of curiosity that flashed in her blue-green eyes.

Klaus smirked, knowingly. "See, love, you are interested."

"Are you going to continue with the story or not?" Caroline asked, irritated.

"What do you think I did, love?" Klaus raised an eyebrow. "I tore his heart from his chest." He shrugged, as if his words were similar to asking how the weather was.

Caroline hesitated. "The guy might have been a misogynistic, sexist dick, but no one would ever want to see their brother die just because they insulted them. No wonder she doesn't want to see you, let alone talk to you." She grumbled. "Great, we're going to see a witch who knows just how much of a jackass you really are. This is going to be such a _productive_ trip, don't you think?" She said, sarcastically.

Klaus clucked his tongue, smirking. "Oh, come on, love. If you keep telling yourself that you're going to fail, of course you will." He said, patiently. "Sometimes you just have to go for it and hope for the best."

Caroline snorted. "I never knew you were the picture of optimism."

"I've been after you for the better part of two years, haven't I? In my opinion, that says a lot about my capabilities for optimism." Caroline scowled and Klaus grinned, tightening his hand around the thigh that was slung around his hip.

"Don't get your hopes up." Caroline said, snarkily, her legs tightening around his waist when she felt herself slipping from his hold, momentarily.

Klaus cleared his throat. "Well, when you've been alive for a thousand years, you can't afford to be a pessimist all the time." He shrugged. "Sometimes you've got to put your best foot forward, otherwise you find it difficult to keep living each and every day of eternity."

Caroline fell quiet, biting her lower lip, humbled and taken aback by the gravity of his words. She was suddenly reminded of what he had said that night of her eighteenth birthday, when he had entered her room to heal her of the hybrid bite.

" _I thought about it myself, once or twice over the centuries, truth will be told."_

"The day…" Caroline hesitated. "The day that you healed me when Tyler bit me. You said…" She bit her lip, nervously, her heart jumping into her throat at the thought of bringing it up. "You told me-"

"I told you that I had considered suicide a few times over the past millennia, is that what you were getting at?" Klaus asked, sharply.

"Yes." Caroline said, quietly. She paused. "Why?"

"Why I considered suicide?"

"Yes."

"Because I have spent a thousand years being hunted by my tyrannical stepfather." Klaus said, bluntly. "I have never known peace until the moment when I stood over his burning corpse. Whenever I would settle down somewhere, Mikael would swoop in and drive me away with the never-ending threat of a white-oak stake to my heart. I may be the most powerful being in the world, Caroline, but around my father, I have never felt more low." He gritted his teeth. "After the first couple of centuries of running, I began to consider whether it was truly worth it. Survival, I mean. Mikael would never stop hunting me, therefore, I would never stop running. Sooner or later, my siblings would get tired of having to run with me, seeing as I was the true object of Mikael's anger. They would be sick of having to risk their own lives for a man who was only _partly_ their brother, hunted only for choosing to align _with_ me rather than _against_ me. I had no other friends or family that would mourn me, so I began to question whether ending my life would be a comfortable respite." His eyes tightened and his fists clenched. "Is that what you wanted to know, Caroline?"

Caroline licked her lips. "I'm sorry." She offered. "I didn't mean… I wasn't trying to…" She trailed off, unsure of how to form the thousands of thoughts that were swarming in her mind at his speech into a coherent sentence that didn't make her sound like a stuttering idiot.

She could feel the tension in his muscles, his shoulders suddenly tight. She swallowed hard, every word that Klaus had spoken ringing incessantly in her ear until she could do nothing more than to close her eyes and try vainly to drown them out.

He was hurt. He could care. He wasn't just the monster that her friends said he was. There was more to him. She had always known it. She hadn't always seen it, but she knew it was there burning in his belly. He hurt because he cared. She could see it in the way his eyes softened whenever she entered his vision, no matter with how much scorn she treated him, the way his face brightened when he had the opportunity to teach her something, the way his hands trembled at his sides, almost as if in longing to touch her. He cared. He cared for her. That was the only reason he had even confessed that dark part of his life to her.

"It's fine." Klaus sighed, harshly, cold breath blowing out through his teeth. "We're getting close to the barrier anyway. I need to concentrate or we'll be set back a mile or two by the boundary spell if it shoves us back."

Caroline flinched at the coldness of his voice, but rested her chin on his shoulder, nonetheless, in a show of solidarity and affection that would never be admitted let alone spoken out loud, her lips twisting into a small smile when she felt him tilt his head into her.

* * *

It was after a few minutes of silence that Caroline began to cluck her tongue in a rhythm set to the ticking of a clock. She continued this for at least ten minutes, as Klaus' teeth started to grind together, until finally, Klaus tightened his grip around her thigh as a warning for her to keep her mouth shut. Caroline couldn't help but smirk to herself, feeling a stab of pride at managing to annoy the Original Hybrid, especially knowing that there wouldn't be any bloody consequences for her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Caroline began, snidely. "Was I annoying you?"

Klaus growled low in his throat and Caroline refused to admit to herself that the growl stirred up anything inside of her but irritation at him.

* * *

"You know what I need?" Caroline said, suddenly, jarring Klaus from his thoughts that pretty much centred around Caroline.

"What is that, sweetheart?" Klaus asked, curiously.

"A curling iron." Caroline said, simply. Klaus chuckled. "What?" She exclaimed. "I'm serious. Come on, this backwater bayou is getting all up in my hair and something seriously _needs_ to be done about it."

"I think your hair looks fine, love." Klaus said, patiently.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Well, you have to say that. You're like in love with me." She paused, her eyes widening, comically, hearing Klaus' heartbeat slow as they both took in exactly what she had just said. "I didn't… I, uh, I didn't mean to say that out loud." She bit her lip. "Crap!" She hissed. "Why do I always say the wrong thing?" She groaned. "I need a freaking brain-to-mouth filter, pronto."

"It's fine, sweetheart." Klaus said, reassuringly. "We'll just pretend you never said it. Or that I said it. Like we do everything in this relationship." He said, bitterly.

"Excuse me?!" Caroline snapped. "We have _no_ relationship." She growled.

"When will you stop kidding yourself, love?" Klaus asked, coldly.

"I'm not kidding myself!" Caroline protested.

"Oh, is that so?" Klaus snorted. "So, is there another reason as to why you immediately try to change the subject as soon as something remotely resembling my feelings for you becomes the point of conversation… except for your obvious dodging of what you and I both know to be the truth?" He snapped.

"Put me down." Caroline said, coldly, her nails digging in to her palm, her face flinty with repressed anger. "Put me down, _right the fuck now_!" She shrieked.

Klaus growled, lowly, an irritated and regretful sigh blowing out of his clenched teeth, annoyed at himself for baiting her with something that remained unsaid between them. He crouched down, allowing Caroline to slip her arms and legs from him and step, gingerly, onto her own two feet, mindful of her sore ankle.

"Oh, my God." Caroline ran her hands through her hair. "Oh, my God. I can't keep doing this with you, Klaus. This has to stop."

"Stop what, love?" Klaus asked, bitterly. "There's nothing between us to stop."

Caroline rounded on him. "You know what I mean!" She snapped.

"No, I don't!" Klaus roared. "I don't know what you mean, Caroline. Because every time I bring it up, every time I think we've made a step forward, you find a way to bring us two steps back. So, tell me. What do you mean?" He asked, coldly.

"I can't do this with you!" Caroline bit out. Her face fell as she took a short, sharp hitched breath. "Oh, _fuck_!" She whimpered, her shoulders slumping. "You know why, I've told you a million times. Klaus, I… I'm not an idiot and I'm not emotionally stunted. I know what I feel. I know… I know I have feelings for you." She admitted, finally, her heart jumping into her throat as she spoke the words that she had buried deep inside of her the moment she had found herself looking on him with something more and scarier and life-affirming than mere hatred or annoyance. "Pretty strong ones. After all, that's the only reason I put up with you in the first place." She sighed and watched with trepidation as Klaus' face changed, his eyes brightening and a slow smile curving on his lips. "For the good of everyone, I have tried my hardest to tear you out of my head, but you won't leave me alone." She said, hoarsely. "But, we _can't_ happen. We just can't." She said, adamantly.

"Why the bloody hell not?" Klaus growled, taking a step closer to her.

Caroline shook her head. "It's complicated."

"Caroline, you just told me that you had feelings for me. And now you're telling me that this, _that we_ can't happen because it's complicated. What is so bloody complicated about this?" Klaus snapped, furiously, his eyes hardening.

"What happens in like fifty years when you meet some other girl and decide that _she's_ beautiful and strong and _full of light_?" She asked, mockingly, feeling the traitorous tears rise to her eyes. "What happens to _me_ , Klaus?" She shrieked. "I get thrown in the garbage like yesterday's trash, while you walk away, and _that's on me_ , Klaus!" She shouted. "That's on me because I was the one who was _stupid_ enough to take a chance even though I knew you'd hurt me sometime in the future. And I can't do that to myself. I _won't_ do that to myself. Not again. I can't be second choice again. I want more. I _deserve_ better than that."

Klaus advanced on her and suddenly, Caroline was more terrified of him than she had been since the night he had walked into her bedroom, hovered over her death-bound, withering, heartsick, pain-stricken body, and healed her from that god-awful hybrid bite, not before giving her a speech that sent her blood quaking with intensity. She wasn't afraid that he would hurt her – this was Klaus she was talking about, he could never put his hands on her to cause her pain. But, mentally? No one had the power to destroy her more than the immortal Hybrid standing in front of her.

"In a thousand years, you are the first woman I have ever dreamed of spending eternity with. Before you, the idea seemed laughable. In fact, I have mocked many others who have held similar notions in their heads. And then I saw you, I saw your strength and your beauty and your determination and your loyalty and your kindness and you shed light into the entirety of my existence that hadn't seen warmth and kindness in far too long. I _need_ you in my life, Caroline. I _exist_ only for you. I can't _breathe_ without you. I'll have you for as long you'll have me." He said, lowly, his face unchanging at the way her face went wounded. "Is that enough of an assurance for you?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or do you need more?"

"That doesn't solve my problem." Caroline said, bitterly. "And you didn't even answer my question. What do I do if you decide centuries down the track that I'm not really the girl you want to spend eternity with?"

"What part of 'you're the only one I could ever imagine spending eternity with' don't you understand?" Klaus snapped. "I love you, Caroline. I'm in love with you. Do you know how many times I have said those words in my very long life? None." He swooped forwards and took his hands in hers. "So, _trust me_ when I say that you _are_ the girl I want to spend eternity with."

Caroline shook her head, reluctant to believe him, snatching her fingers out of his grip. Klaus lunged forward and caught her before she could spring away, his arm sliding around her waist and rucking her up against him.

Klaus ran his tongue over his lower lip. "Do you remember, earlier, when we were talking about optimism?" Caroline nodded, shakily. "Do you remember what I said?" Caroline's brow furrowed in confusion. "I said that if you keep telling yourself that you're going to fail, of course you'll fail. It applies to _us_ as well, Caroline. If you keep telling yourself that _we're_ going to end even before we begin, we will never work. I'm asking you to take a leap. I'm asking you to jump and I swear to you, _I give you my word_ that I won't let you fall." He swore.

Caroline trembled. Her hand reached up and cupped his jaw, her thumb sliding against his cheekbone, her eyes intent on his.

She hitched in a sharp breath and her eyes travelled to his red lips.

A moment passed and her hand dropped to her side, limp.

"We need to find the witch." She said, hoarsely, recoiling away from him.

Klaus growled, viciously, and spun on his feet, stalking away, Caroline shuddering before she followed him.

* * *

"Well," Klaus smirked. "I'd like to think that I accomplished that task very well." He said, proudly.

Caroline snorted. "Oh, yeah, because threatening someone to do your bidding until they quiver in fear is such a huge accomplishment." She said, sarcastically.

"You know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, love." Klaus said, pointedly, his hand leaving a hot, pleasurable trail on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs to her home.

"But it's also the funniest." Caroline shot back.

They stood on Caroline's doorstep, Klaus' hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, while Caroline fidgeted on the threshold, separating herself from his hold.

"All in all, it wasn't a bad trip. Wouldn't you say, Caroline?" Klaus said, playfully, nudging her in the side, his eyes sobering at the honest talk they had in the woods about their feelings about each other and her insecurities and his reassurances.

Caroline grimaced. "Well, you didn't have to put up with a homicidal hybrid for an entire day, trekking through some backwater bayou just to see a witch with serious anger issues against said homicidal hybrid that you are accompanying."

"Oh, come on, love. You can admit that you had fun." Klaus smirked. "There's no one here to judge you for enjoying spending some quality time with the Big Bad."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "You are so full of yourself." She sighed, tucking a curl behind her ear and turning her head to the side so he wouldn't see how much his words hung true. "Well, I should really get inside before my mom cocks the gun and comes to see what the hell's happening on her doorstep." She said, dryly.

Klaus ducked his head, hiding his smile at the effect he knew he had on her. "I'll see you soon, Caroline." He said, slowly, snatching her hand in his and lifting it up to his lips to press and slow, sweet kiss on the tip of her knuckles, enjoying the way the redness rose to her pale, creamy cheeks. "It was lovely spending this time with you." He said, honestly.

Caroline took a deep breath and snatched her hand away, her skin tingling from where Klaus' lips had landed on her nerve endings.

She cleared her throat. "See you later."

She spun on her feet, her hand twisting the doorknob and swinging open the front door, making to go inside, when she stopped in her tracks. For a moment, she simply stood there, not moving, Klaus becoming anxious and taking a worried step closer to her.

Suddenly, she swung around and leaned forwards, her hand cupping his face much like she had in the forest. This time, however, her head tipped forwards and her eyes fluttered shut, her lips slanting over the corner of his mouth in a sweet kiss that surprised him right to his bones. The warmth of her engulfed him and her sweet scent filled his senses, his eyes falling shut involuntarily, his hand sliding around the curve of her hip, as he nuzzled into her hair.

Her warmth left him as soon as it came and he was left standing alone on the doorstep, the sound of the door slamming shut behind Caroline's fleeing form ringing in his ears. He stood there for a moment, his hand reaching up and his fingers ghosting over the corner of his mouth where her lips had touched, the warmth of her still bleeding into his skin despite her absence. He couldn't help the boyish grin that stretched across his face at the show of unhindered and vulnerable affection from the girl who had snatched every sane thought from his head, proving to him that she shared his feelings for him. He had a chance and there would come a day where she would be by his side for eternity.

He could be content with wooing her for a little while longer and reassuring himself with that picture of their future together, while she dealt with whatever misgivings she had and came to terms with just how strong her feelings for him were, if it meant having her for the whole of eternity.

Of course, little did he know that while Caroline had rushed away from his side after kissing his mouth, she had smiled a similar sweet smile as she threw herself into her home and shut the door behind her, her heart thumping in her chest and her back pressing against the door as her mind revisited the indomitable feeling of finally giving into the urge to press her lips to his skin over and over again.

Perhaps she could try her hand at being a bit more optimistic. It wouldn't kill her.


	2. To His Mistress Going to Bed (Klaroline)

**To His Mistress Going to Bed**

 **In which Caroline dreams of Klaus and is pleasantly surprised with his prowess as the god of epic kinky sex.**

 _So, yeah, this is basically porn on paper… So, I came up with this_ _mostly because cupcakemolotov thought that there should be some smut after She Walks in Beauty and I agreed. Thank you so much to justanotherfiveminutes for looking over this for me, you're an angel and I love you so freaking much._ _You don't have to read She Walks in Beauty to get this. This can be read as just standalone smut if you'd like. Just in case it isn't obvious, this is most certainly NSFW and NSFR. Even for those of you who enjoy some smut now and then, this kind of goes into the fetish, kinky nature of smut, so be warned. Be very warned._

She was seated on top of him, straddling his bare, muscled chest, her thighs locked around his torso. His hands were hot on her bare skin, stroking over soft, supple flesh and rendering her an incoherent, hungry mess, teasing her just to the point of madness. She ached to reach out for him, desperation sinking into her skin and making her fingers tremble, as she imagined what it would be like to have his lips descend, warm and smooth and skilful, onto hers, pressing insistently and his tongue licking into the inside of her teeth.

Unfortunately, her hands were bound at the wrists behind her back with something smooth and made of silk, she guessed.

He laid back against the headboard of the bed, his eyes twinkling with the satisfaction of having her naked in his lap, bound and writhing, her cunt grinding down onto the ridges of his abdomen, searching for any sort of relief for the distracting wetness and throbbing between her thighs. She whimpered and her thighs quaked as shocks passed through her nerves at every insistent rock of her hips, her cunt slicking his well-defined torso. Her hips undulated without a regard to her own wantonness, her mind only knowing the painful perfection of his touch, soothing the fires that he had stoked inside of her. The sharp intensity of his gaze, despite his sinewy muscles that were locked and loaded with resting power even in the midst of recreation, seemed to immortalise her in his very mind, his look snatching the air right out of her lungs. Blue eyes swooped into her soul, as his head tipped up, short blonde curls tickling the underside of her jaw. He pressed his mouth to her throat and she gasped.

" _Klaus_." She panted. " _Please, Klaus_."

Her hips rocked down, purposefully, her cunt grinding fervently for some friction to alleviate her arousal.

"Moan for me, love." He purred in her ear, the low timbre of his voice sending pulses of heat that settled in her cunt and made her spread her legs even wider above him, wetness flooding her inner thighs and his abdomen, making her undulations and his skin hot and wet and slick.

Her clit dragged across his well-defined stomach and she couldn't help the breathy, cracked moan that fell from her lips, her hips pressing down insistently, his voice only renewing the ache that thrummed in her belly. His arms were tucked behind his head, the lean, sinewy muscles of his well-defined biceps, a dark, feral, wolfish, _proud_ look in his dark blue eyes, a poised smirk on his reddened lips, his eyes raking up and down her needful, _thrashing_ body.

A hopeful, dazed, slightly deranged look in her blue-green eyes, her arms deliciously sore from being tethered behind her back in order to satisfy his desire, her hair dishevelled and curling around her face, mussed from sweat and sex, and her eyes hooded and wanting. Her nipples tightened at his deliberate, _defiantly possessive_ sweep of her body, her breasts full and lush, her body looking thoroughly fucked in a manner of speaking.

She may have arched her back, the sudden urge to have his mouth on her breasts burning through her like a red-hot wire.

"Klaus, I can't-" she whimpered.

Klaus rolled his eyes, shifting slightly underneath her, his slight movement making her grit her teeth and dig her knees into the mattress, the jolt sending a shock wave coursing from her throbbing clit right through the rest of her body.

"Make yourself come, Caroline." Klaus growled, authoritatively. "I sure as hell am not going to help you."

Caroline couldn't help the slow pout that formed on her cherry-red lips, a slow pulse of heat settling low in her stomach at his rough words, the dominance in his tone causing her insides to liquefy.

Her dreams had never taken such a deviant turn prior to her interlude with Klaus in his attic. Hell, she'd never thought she was one to be into bondage or sadomasochism, but considering the way the soft, damp flesh between her thighs gushed in response to her predicament and Klaus' dark, alluring threat, she guessed she did have a thing for it after all.

Frankly, she blamed Elena and her no-humanity, bitchy self for stealing the prom dress she had spent _months_ searching for in the blink of an eye, forcing her to march straight over to Klaus' creepy mansion and ask for one of his creepy trophy-case pieces. The moment they had shared in his attic – the kiss, the _magical, stealing-breath-out-of-lungs, foot-popping,_ _toe curling, making-you-question-your-place-in-this-world_ kiss – had sliced deep into her heart and settled, leading to this re-enactment of some hardcore, kinky skin flick that starred her as the busty, breathy, _frankly desperate_ blonde and Klaus as the well-hung guy in a position of power, not really taking advantage of her considering her almost unbelievable willingness to let him treat her like this.

"But, _Klaus_ -" She whined.

Klaus sighed. "Oh, come on, love. We both know you're practically gagging for it." He said, pointedly.

Caroline bared her teeth and snapped at him like a wounded, wilfully disobedient animal, desperation stilling and anger roaring in her mind, filling her vision with vicious, red spots, at his cavalier attitude to the hedonism and submission and borderline humiliation he had guided her into with a hand on the small of her back and an consenting, eager smile on her lush, pink lips.

"My poor, sweet Caroline. Oh, love, look at how _bloody_ desperate you are. How wound up." He crooned, a smug satisfaction colouring his low growl.

His voice was smooth as liquid gold to her, despite the roughness of his growl, as if he were reciting the sweetest words of poetry to her, but with an undercurrent of male pride at turning her into a begging, writhing, _tortured_ mess in his lap, unashamed and smug that her desperation for some sort of reprieve had turned her into an addict longing for a hit.

"You're dripping all over me, sweetheart." Klaus said, approvingly. "You can't pretend you don't want this." He clucked his tongue, thoughtfully. "Perhaps I can move you along a bit, though."

His voice was soothing.

 _As if he's doing me such a huge fucking favour by helping me get off – the bastard_. Caroline thought, spitefully, the familiar tones of her rebellion coursing through her veins.

This was quickly silenced when his lush mouth latched onto her breast, taking what she was so willingly offering him without a single burst of shame anywhere in her body or mind, and his teeth tugged on her nipple, tight and sensitive, her mouth open in a wordless scream as mind-numbing pleasure coursed through her.

He pulled away from her, regarding her quivering body, thoughtfully. He hummed under his breath, his dark blue eyes searing lines across her body.

"Not enough, it seems." He mused. "But if I give in to your wishes and fuck you now, it sets a dangerous precedent, sweetheart." He said, apologetically.

His hand slid into her sweat-matted blonde curls and tugged sharply, exposing the long, lean line of her porcelain-skinned throat. His lips curled into a smirk as they pressed against her jugular, against the throbbing vein filled with red, gushing, _sweet – like Caroline_ – blood.

"And we can't have you thinking that I'd let you get away with just _anything_ , now can we?"

Caroline resisted the urge to scream, his taunting making her suddenly want him to crack him over the skull with the nearest sharp object, or maybe sink her fingers into his chest and wrap around his beating heart – _knock him down a few pegs_ , she decided.

He sighed, as if what he was about to say was the hardest thing he'd ever have had to come to terms with. "As much as I would love to sink my cock into your sweet cunt and never leave," His fingers suddenly swiped at her throbbing clit, making her mouth part in a soundless cry that sent shockwaves pouring into every inch of her, and lifted his damp fingers to his mouth, sucking her wetness off, seductively, his fingers slipping from his red, spit-slick lips with a lewd pop. "I'm going to have to say no, Caroline, love." He purred, his eyes flashing, wickedly.

"Asshole." She hissed, spitefully.

Klaus had the nerve to grin at her expletive, revelling in her sudden show of defiance. "You know, I was going to curl my fingers inside all of that hot, wet sweetness between your thighs, let your hips roll as you fuck my hand, and sate your need, but just for that, I think I'll just watch as you grind and slide your cunt over me to the point of your orgasm."

His voice was deliciously mournful, but his dark, wild eyes flashed with triumph and satisfaction.

Caroline's head lowered at the squandered promise of relief, cursing herself for being so quick to temper.

 _But, to be fair, it's Klaus._ She thought, incredulously, ridiculously needing to defend her own actions. _The guy's a walking jackass and he's fucking asking for it. Anyone would get angry if they were sitting on his lap, naked and horny, waiting for him to do something about it and he was just sitting here, watching them fucking writhe with want of sex with that stupid, perfect smirk on his stupid, kissable lips and not doing anything about it. I mean, what kind of self-respecting guy has a hot, naked chick – especially since he's been looking to get said hot, naked chick into his bed for months now – practically begging him to fuck her and would much rather screw with her and watch her make herself come? I could totally understand if he wanted to see that after the fifth or so time we've fucked, but instead of getting his mack on with me, he prefers to play the voyeur at a time like this?_

 _Oh, fuck this, I need to come. I can't be stuffed with rationalising all of this._

"Remember, love, you have to ask permission before you come." Klaus said, cheerfully, his dimples showing

Caroline's mouth parted, ignoring the way she seethed at his comment, as her pelvis sank down, her cunt grinding, her inner thighs, sticky and wet, tightening around his lean waist. His hands slid across the slight curve of her hips, his fingers slotting into the grooves of her pelvic bone, pressing her down with urgency, just to help her along. She was dirty and hot and perfect and open and Klaus had the sudden, sly, artful thought that she was the picture of Titan's _Venus of Urbino_ , all porcelain skin, long, blonde curls, her spread legs, the subtle curve to her hips, the flushing of her skin, her head tilting back, her back arched, her full red lips.

She was absolute.

Caroline took a deep breath, ignoring the ache in her arms, and pressed down, the damp slide of her cunt swivelling against the ridges of his muscles, the friction only assisting the onslaught of sensations clenching low in her stomach. Klaus simply sat there, his hands moving from the grooves in her pelvic bone, Caroline feeling the loss of his assistance keenly, to wrap around the posts at the edges of the headboard, his change in stance making him shift slightly underneath her and causing her to whimper in displeasure at the suddenly renewed throbbing that just never seemed to reach the peak she was aiming for, no matter what she tried to do, no matter which way her hips undulated or how hard she ground her cunt against his stomach. He smirked at the short twitches of her body, the scorching heat of her cunt warming and wetting his skin.

"Hard, isn't it, sweetheart?" Klaus crooned, ruthlessly, brushing her sweat-soaked hair away from her flushed face. "Don't worry, love, I'm sure you'll get there soon."

Caroline gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her palms in a vain attempt to stop herself from throttling him.

Her hips rolled to a different rhythm and a stunned, enraptured, wordless cry fell from her lips.

Agonised shocks that teetered on the edge between pain and pleasure coursed right through her, renewing her ache.

Her cunt clutched frantically and desperately at nothing, gushing anew and dampening Klaus' abdomen with more of her come.

Her back arched and she thrust the full curve of her flushed breasts against his mouth, his teeth nipping at the warm, aching skin with amusement as he realised that she had managed to her get herself back into the swing of things. But he wouldn't stop his torment until he saw her come and scream his name at the top of her lungs, her limbs seizing and thrashing in his laps until the aftershocks of her climax had subsided.

Her skin went from slick and cool with sweat to a renewed burn with every persistent undulation of her hips, the heat pressure growing in the pit of her stomach. Her thighs jerked and shook wildly each time her clit came into contact with the ridges of his muscles from this different angle.

" _Klaus_!" She shrieked, her eyes squeezing shut.

"No." Klaus growled, roughly. "Don't close your eyes, Caroline." Her eyes drifted back open, her stomach flexing with every roll of her hips. "I want to see your eyes when you come. I want you to know, when you're thrashing in my arms and your cunt is gushing and your eyes are rolling back in your head from the intensity of your climax, that only I can make you come undone without even putting my hands on you. Only I can draw every drop of pleasure from your gorgeous body and still make you beg for more. I don't even have to touch you to turn you into this shameless little thing, so desperate for an orgasm that you'll rub yourself _over and over again_ on my stomach like a bitch in heat. _You're mine_ , _love_."

His words crawled through her veins like a drug and burned, branding her from the inside.

"It's time you stopped denying that."

"Klaus-" She gasped out, her voice raspy and her flesh set on fire.

"Say it, my love. Say you're mine."

Klaus tugged on her hair, sharply, the sting of his action and the heat of his words pooling low in her cunt, the muscles deep inside of her flexing and opening; she was so utterly turned on, slightly debased but loving it, swiftly approaching the cliff that she had been trying for what seemed like an eternity to throw herself off in bliss and suspense.

"Klaus, I-" She panted in short, little breaths, her grinding quickening and her thighs aching with the force of the pressure.

" _Say it_."

" _I'm yours_." She managed to scream out, her cunt pounding as if echoing the truth of her words.

Klaus smiled slow and smug. "Good girl." He said, approvingly.

His praise made her stomach clench, reluctantly, the sane part of her mind – that hadn't dissolved into a puddle of lust and arousal and desperation and hunger and madness – inwardly screaming at her to not make him her master. But at this point, she didn't care what she looked like: dirty, greedy, whatever. She'd deal with that once she had come.

Once she had come, she could turn the tables and make _him_ desperate for _her_. She could spread her legs and make him _beg_ to lick her out, or tie him to the same bed he was lounging on and lowering her cunt to his perfect, red mouth, grind against him and see how he liked it. Or she could kneel down in front of him, take him inch by inch into her mouth and watch him come apart from above her, but _only_ when she wanted him to. If she didn't get to come until he said so, there was no way in hell he'd get the gloriousness of her mouth on his cock and her swallowing his come down without giving a little something back in turn: namely, his pride and control. She'd steal it from him while on her knees and with a smile.

But now, she can feel herself building and screaming and crying into him and begging and desperate. Her thighs and wrists ached, her skin was hot, her nipples tight, her breath coming out in short, broken gasps, her clit throbbing and sending shocks right through her body and her cunt clenching.

Then, she remembered: "Remember, love, you have to ask permission before you come."

"Klaus?"

Her voice was high-pitched and uncertain and pleading, her thighs trembling and her body tensing with the awaiting suspense of the spasms intensifying in her pelvis, settling low and sharp in her willing cunt.

She honestly could not be more articulate than that, her voice nothing but high-pitched, broken whines that were a testament to the brink of her orgasm, her hips undulating shamelessly, her lips and eyes utterly wrecked.

" _Come, Caroline_."

Her orgasm crashed over like a wave, her cunt pressing firmly into the body below her, her knees digging into the mattress, her mouth open in a wordless scream, her muscles tightening and her limbs seizing and thrashing as if in the midst of a seizure. Her body trembled as she collapsed over his chest, her thighs quivering with aftershocks and her teeth chattering, sweat clinging to her skin and wrists continuing to ache, her bones turned to liquid.

Her fingers trembled as he carefully undid the silk ties that had her wrists bound. She winced as her arms were freed from the pressure. She whimpered, her lips pressing against his breastbone, her nose jutting into the inky black birds marked onto his shoulder and clavicle. She almost didn't believe what she was seeing when she watched him take her hands into his and lift them to his mouth, kissing where the ties had left red, angry lines across her wrist and her nails had carved crescent-shaped marks into her palms.

"Oh, I hate you so fucking much." Caroline muttered, spent, her body languid and sore. "I'm never going to be able to look you in the eye ever again." Caroline shifted on top of him, her chin resting on his ribs as she looked up at him. "Seriously, where did you come up with all of this BDSM, Fifty Shades of Grey-esque stuff?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "That book is _not_ a good manual for rough sex, sweetheart."

He looked down at her, his eyes feral and wicked, his fingers stroking down her blonde curls in a remarkably tender gesture for someone who had just sat back without a care in the world and made her grind herself on top of him to orgasm.

Caroline grinned.

"And not too bad for a dream, was I?" Klaus commented, smugly. "If only you were this liberated in real life, if only you'd admit to yourself that you're _mine_ , my love, we could be doing this all the time."

The way his hand skimmed the length of her naked, flushed, languid body was deliberately possessive. A mark of ownership, if ever she knew one. If he could, he'd carve his name into her bones and flesh and never let her go.

Caroline snorted. "It's bad enough having to enact kinky fantasies with you in a dream, Klaus, you really think I want to deal with it in real life? I think I'll stick with the dreams, thank you very much." She curled her arm around his waist, her mouth pressing against the base of his throat.

"At least, this way, I get one hell of an orgasm and I don't have to look at you or deal with any of the shame in the morning."


	3. Nights of Vodka and Wandering (KC)

**Nights of Vodka and Wandering**

 **In which Caroline** _ **doesn't**_ **go to the ball, but Klaus finds her anyway.**

 _I know I said this was a drabble, but it's pretty long – like over 9000 words, so it probably classifies more of a oneshot than a drabble. This is a 3X14 AU where Caroline doesn't go to the Mikaelson Ball as Klaus' date. This is pretty much where a lot started for Klaus and Caroline, so I thought I'd explore how I think it would have gone if things went a bit a differently that night. Don't worry, I'm sure our two favourite blondes will still find each other by the end of the night and prove that Klaroline is ultimate and would happen no matter the circumstance. I just wanted to thank Anastasia Dreams for looking over this for me and actually pushing me to finish this drabble. Otherwise, I probably would've given up ages ago._

 _Anyway, enjoy!_

Caroline's hands were shoved into her pockets as she shuffled, slowly, to the looming doorstep. The bag hanging from her shoulder smacked against her thigh, irritatingly, with every step she took. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath, steeling herself, and marched up to the doorstep. She shifted her weight and placed the large package in one arm, while raising her other arm to knock. Her hand shook with nervousness and fear, as she raised it to give three, sharp raps against the ornate wooden door. Her heart thumped, frantically, in her chest, betraying the fear that slid like grease through her veins, knowing that her erratic heartbeat would be a tell-tale giveaway to the indifference she was aiming for.

Moments passed and she remained on the doorstep, taking quick, deep breaths to calm her frayed nerves. She stilled, making sure to not even take a breath, when she heard the sound of footsteps from behind the door. She schooled her face into what she hoped was a wicked poker face – her Miss Mystic Falls, Queen Bitch, I'm-better-than-all-of-you eyes and smile – the one that had freshman scurrying away from her, looking for the nearest refuge.

The door swung open with a sharp wrench and a man stood in the doorway – although, not the man she was looking for. This man, who didn't look too much older than her, was slightly taller than her small build, with dark, windswept hair, a lean, athletic body, devilish dark-brown eyes and a mischievous smirk on his delightful lips. Her heart quivered just the slightest bit in her ribcage and she cursed her body's reaction to an attractive man. His body language immediately told her that he was very much aware of just how handsome he was. She resisted the urge to shake her head to free herself of those traitorous, meaningless thoughts.

"Well, hello, darling." The man's smile turned roguish. "Now, you have to be the prettiest package I have ever received. Someone is certainly incredibly thoughtful to gift you to me. And you've even brought _another_ gift with you." He waggled his eyebrows. "Now, what can I do for _you_?" He asked, lowly, his eyes smouldering, his intentions clear.

Caroline raised an eyebrow and a noise of disgust left her mouth. "Ew, gross. Dial the perviness back, creep," she bit out, snorting, her hands on her hips, defiantly. "Is your brother at home?" She asked, wearily.

The man's smile grew wider. "I have many brothers, darling. You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that," he said, Caroline noticing the bemused incredulity in his eyes that told her he found her sass amusing and slightly bewitching, having never met a woman who was so defiant in the face of a being so much powerful than her, with the ability to kill her with a single, harsh snap of his hand.

"Well, then, _darling_ ," she mocked, narrowing her eyes at his _stupid, smug face_. "Is Klaus at home?" She asked, her voice tinged with sweetness and acid.

Suddenly, the man was shoved out of her sight and Klaus appeared in the doorway, his eyes annoyed at the man at his side.

"Oh, go back to staring at yourself, Kol, and leave Caroline be," Klaus bit out, warningly.

Kol – although, she would always, in her mind, now refer to him as 'pervy Mikaelson brother with no respect for boundaries' – rolled his eyes, obviously accustomed to his brother's temperament, and winked at her, making her scoff, before striding away, casually.

Klaus turned a boyish grin, full dimples blaring, to her. "What can I do for you, Caroline, love?" He asked, casually. "I assume you received my invitation? And the dress, obviously?" His eyes glinted, as they swept a hot trail across her body with a look that made her fidget slightly at his unabashed, unashamed interest.

Finally, his eyes landed on the unopened, white box in her arms.

Caroline shifted, uncomfortably, her arms slightly aching from the continued hold over the box. "Yeah, I did get the invitation," she said, formally. "And the dress, obviously." She raised the box in her arms slightly, to draw attention to it.

"Why don't you come inside, love?" Klaus offered. "It's unbecoming to hold a conversation with a beautiful woman on the doorstep." He stepped aside, allowing her entrance into his home.

Caroline almost grimaced at his last comment – _he really needs to stop with all the flirting_ , she thought, wryly – and fought with herself on whether to go inside or not. But, finally, she relented, reassuring herself with the thought that she would finally be able to put the big box down somewhere and rest her arms before they fell off.

"Fine," she said, shortly, and stepped over the threshold.

The house was wide and spacey, the rooms lit up with a strange darkness that made her think that the windows had been shut and the lights turned off for decades rather than the few weeks the house had been under renovation from one of the old Founders' Estates that littered the edge of Mystic Falls. Most of them had been knocked down in an attempt to make room for the residential area, but a few had remained, such as the Salvatore Boarding House and the one she was currently standing in. If her knowledge of Mystic Falls and her own family history was correct – and it should be, considering how much cramming she had done before the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, the land – and she supposed house as well – she was standing on had belonged to the Forbes family decades ago until her ancestors had been unable to pay the mortgage payments on it due to financial troubles after the Depression and the bank had repossessed it gleefully.

Her grandmother spoke of this with resentment until the day she died.

It was strange – to stand on her own soil and know it belonged to someone else. Especially since it now belonged to the one man who had caused so much pain and heartache to the people she cared about and herself.

Righteous fury crawled into her veins and she had the vicious urge to call him out on all of the injustice he happily dealt to them.

But she was quick to shake it off when many surprised eyes turned onto her presence in the less-than-warm house.

The Mikaelson siblings and Esther stared at Caroline, speculatively, all of them wondering what sort of girl she was to bravely enter the home of six people who could kill her with the slightest breath and show no fear or trepidation whatsoever. They had to admit that the girl, unprotected and powerless as she was, was either very brave or very stupid to come into the lion's den. She was pretty, none of them could deny it – although Rebekah had to admit she gave it her best go. She had the blonde curls and the blue-green eyes of a sweet Southern belle, but with the way Klaus' eyes watched her intently, Rebekah and Elijah – the ones who had spent the most time with Klaus – knew there was something else about this baby vampire that had enchanted the man who had remained steadfast that love and any other accompanying feelings were for fools and he would never partake in what he saw as a weakness.

But now they all noticed the way Klaus' gaze never seemed to stray from Caroline for longer than a moment, as if the world turned and she were the axis, eyes dancing atevery stray reluctant smile she graced him with **–** his muscles coiled and shifted, his body mirroring even the slightest hitch of her breath. It was this that forced all of them – including Kol, who was still sceptical as to the idea that his brother had anything remotely resembling emotions – to reconsider their conclusion that Caroline had merely 'enchanted' their wilful and ruthless brother/son.

Of course, this didn't mean that Klaus was aware that Caroline already had parts of him wrapped around her finger. Knowing their oblivious-when-it-came-to-certain-things brother, he was still thinking he had the upper hand in this situation.

This wasn't the first time all of them had seen him all twisted around because of a woman. Tatia had been the culprit a thousand years ago and they had witnessed him tumble over himself in awe of her beauty, but Rebekah had never seen him show attention to any other facet of the first doppelganger's personality. He had been led around by a leash around his neck by the manipulative girl that Rebekah still cursed to hell and back today, his infatuation with her doe-eyes, brunette waves and seemingly sweet smile enough for him to even ignore the fact that she was so blatantly spreading her legs for his elder brother at the same time she was batting her eyelashes at him. Rebekah still thanked any higher power that Klaus had not felt the same infatuation her other foolish brother did when it came to the succeeding doppelgangers, only choosing to associate with the manipulative chits out of sheer advantage of what they could offer him.

But Caroline was no Tatia. There was so much more than the beauty of this young vampire that had attracted Klaus' attention. Elijah could see it in his normally unfeeling eyes, the way they had softened in warmth when they first fell upon her, how quickly he had rushed to her defence when Kol had badgered and flirted with her on the doorstep.

"Oh, no! What is _she_ doing here?" Rebekah groaned, shooting Caroline a seething look.

Caroline snorted. "Excuse _you_. You really think I'd be _willingly_ sharing _airspace_ , let alone a room, with you, Glenn Close?" She spat, viciously.

Both Klaus and Elijah chuckled under her breaths, understanding her pop-culture reference, an action that their younger sister was none too happy about.

"What?" Rebekah's head swivelled to look at her brothers. "What did she say?" She snapped.

Elijah waved her off. "I wouldn't worry if I were you, Rebekah. Miss Forbes merely referenced a movie that was released in 1987 and she finds that some of your actions closely resemble that of the antagonist's in that particular movie. Once you watch it, you will-" He pursed his lips, a wary look appearing in his eyes at his sudden remembrance of Rebekah's temperament. "On second thought, perhaps you shouldn't watch it," he said, quickly, attempting to divert disaster between the two high-strung blonde women.

Kol grinned. "This movie pokes fun at our dearest Rebekah? Now I simply must watch it." He smirked, leaning back on the sofa, his hands behind his head and his leg thrown over the other.

Rebekah scowled at her teasing brother and jumped to her feet, pointing at Caroline accusingly. "Get your trollop out of here, Nik, before I start ripping the skin off her bones," she said, advancing on the other girl.

"Hey, watch it, Rosalie," Caroline snapped, taking a twisted sense of enjoyment in the way that Rebekah's face contorted with confusion at her myriad of pop-culture references that she wasn't able to get her head around. "I didn't come here to have a bitch fight with you," she said, snidely. "I came to talk to your brother."

"I'm right here, darling. Whenever and wherever you want me," Kol said, lowly, his eyes smouldering as they trailed over her body.

"Oh, shut up." Caroline rolled her eyes. She turned to Klaus. "Is there somewhere we can talk? _Privately_?" She asked, pointedly, nudging her head towards his siblings.

Klaus smiled. "Of course, love." He looked at his siblings. "Go away." He told his family, impatiently, gesturing towards them with a flick of his hand to move out of the room, so that he and Caroline could have their privacy.

Rebekah glared at Klaus, defiantly, before flouncing off with a flip of her sleek, blonde locks, suitably chastised by his dark, warning glare. Kol smirked, wagging his eyebrows at his brother and giving one last lascivious, lewd wink to Caroline that left her blushing to the roots of her hair and glowering furiously at him and Klaus swearing swift retribution in a low growl. Pleased at the reaction he provoked, Kol spun on his feet and strode out of the room in a swagger. Finn, Elijah and Esther simply regarded Klaus and Caroline with thinly veiled interest, Elijah sending a Klaus a look as if he had never seen him prior to this, before the three of them walked away from the strange couple as well.

Caroline took a deep breath, some of her nervousness flitting away at the reassurance that it was only she and Klaus in the room, her heartbeat slowing to a comfortable rhythm _._ Of course, it didn't escape her knowledge that she was currently alone with the man who had exploited the sire bond with his hybrids to force her boyfriend into giving her a lethal werewolf bite on her birthday in order to prove to Stefan who was really in power in their little struggle – _maybe I need to rethink my strategy of sending the other members of the Addams family out of the room; I probably would've been safer if they were here_ , she thought, wryly _._

"Your brother is so freaking creepy." Caroline muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, darling, you and I both know our attraction isn't as unrequited as you make it out to be," Kol joked from somewhere far off in the large manor house, his voice echoing through the empty, dimly lit rooms.

"Oh, stop thinking that you're some great prize for all the women in the world, Kol!" Rebekah shouted from upstairs.

"Enough!" Klaus roared, immediately silencing any other outbursts from his impulsive younger siblings. "Would you all mind keeping your mouths shut for a little while longer while we talk? I know it's outside all of your comfort zones, but please _try_ and give us some privacy?" He scowled, his teeth snapping together.

Klaus shot the ceiling a dark glance, looking as though he was communicating his annoyance with his brother mentally, before looking at Caroline, his eyes suddenly soft. "I apologise for Kol and his behaviour. Unfortunately, it has been a long time since he has seen a woman as beautiful as you and he's always had a bit of a mouth around pretty girls. Don't take it too seriously," he said, gently, his voice smooth and soothing.

Caroline rolled her eyes, slightly bemused by all the family drama. "Oh, yeah. I forgot. You're the guy who shoves his siblings into boxes when they try to screw you over," she muttered to herself.

Klaus cocked his head, at a loss for words at her outward defiance, despite having seen her on her deathbed by his hands just a few days prior. He couldn't help the slow smile that curved onto his mouth, as his eyes raked over the way her chin tipped up, boldly, her eyes cooled and her hand stood poised on the curve of her hip.

Her rebellion was certainly enthralling. But he wasn't willing to explore the reason behind the way his heartbeat suddenly jumped into his throat at the slightest glance from her in great detail.

"Now, what is it that I can do for you, love?" Klaus asked, easily.

"Don't call me 'love'," Caroline said, sharply, determined to draw the line between them.

Klaus shrugged. "Alright then, _Caroline_ ," he stressed. "What can I do for you?" He asked, again.

Caroline pursed her lips, shoving the large white box in her hands at him, surprising him with the way it accidentally – she swore it was an accident – smacked into his chest.

"I got your invitation and the dress on my doorstep this morning. But I'm sorry, I don't think I can make it tonight," Caroline said, earnestly, her eyes losing some of their hardness. "I appreciate the invitation, but I'm not really in a frame of mind to party the night way," she said, slowly.

Klaus shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Ah, yes." He cleared his throat. His eyes softened as they raked over her face, noting the way dark circles brimmed around her eyelids and her lips turned down at the corners, no matter how bright a smile she tried to pull to her face. "I heard about your father, Caroline. My condolences," he said, lowly. "I never had a good relationship with my father, but yours must have meant a great deal to you, otherwise you wouldn't be grieving so heavily. I am very sorry for your loss."

Caroline almost reeled back in shock at his words, reading the sincerity in them. Warmth slowly began to spread along her ribs, settling in her heart and making her eyes widen with suppressed emotion. Her heartbeat quickened in her ribcage as she looked at him differently for the first time. She had thought the invitation was merely a clever ruse. He hadn't been able to achieve his objective the night he had ordered Tyler to bite her, so he was using this ball as a chance to get under Tyler's skin by inviting her. That was the thought she had used to reassure herself on her way over to the manor. But staring at him now, she couldn't see a speck of dishonesty in his gaze. His eyes were warm and gentle and earnest and his mouth curved down at the corners in sympathy.

Everything faded into the background, time came to a standstill and it was just the two of them standing there in his empty living room. The ache in her arms waned and all she could hear was the telltale patter of her heartbeat giving her away, and she swore she could almost hear the echo of his heart, drumming to the very same rhythm.

She couldn't help the way her mouth went dry and butterflies landed in her stomach. She had the sudden urge to reach up and touch his stubble with the tips of her fingers and stroke carefully, see if it would scrape her skin to the point where it sent sparks rushing up and down her spine. To graze his jawline with her mouth, her human teeth nipping at his skin, until that unavoidable boyish grin spread across his face and his dimples were revealed.

Excitement and curiosity saddled into her veins and her senses were engulfed with an emotion she couldn't even begin to decipher at that time.

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and willing those dangerous, lust-starved thoughts out of her head with every grind of her teeth.

 _I'm only thinking like that because I haven't had sex since Tyler left. It's just the hormones talking. I'm a healthy teenage girl and I need sex. And my reproductive organs are just reacting to the nearest hot guy. Not that he's hot. He's only hot in the way celebrities or male models are. There's no real feeling there. It's just like looking at a photo in a magazine. There's no way in hell I am in any way attracted to Klaus past a rudimentary physical attraction to good-looking guy._

 _There's just no way._

This was the man Elena had sworn up and down was the devil incarnate and she could see why that was from her friend's point of view. But why would the 'devil incarnate' go to such lengths only to make her collateral damage against her friends? She was nothing special. Her friends only needed her when they needed legwork done. Until then, she was usually kept in the dark, in favour of two older vampires that Elena only met a year ago, as opposed to her two best friends whom she knew since they were all in diapers. She couldn't be of that much use to him. Why go to so much trouble just to get her onto his side?

Caroline frowned, her mind unable to piece together the fragments of Klaus to form a position about him in any way. She didn't understand why she was so affected by the murderous Original Hybrid. The man was a mass murderer who tortured the people she cared about, but her body was reacting to him like she was some silly teenage girl standing in front of her first crush. Her palms were sweaty out of nervousness rather than fear, her head slightly woozy from the pleasant scent of his cologne, and she was vividly aware of just how dangerously attractive he was.

She cleared her throat and wet her dry mouth with her tongue.

"Look, don't get me wrong. I appreciate you inviting me, but considering my circumstances, I don't think it'd be right to go to a ball," Caroline said, slowly. "Maybe if it were a different time, but I'm just not really up to it right now. I'm really sorry, but thank you for the invitation."

Perfect Southern manners that had been bred into her since she was a little girl made their appearance, her eyes shining brightly with her sincerity.

"I just came here to return the dress," Caroline said, formally. "Since I wasn't going to be able to come tonight, I thought it was only fair that I return it to you."

"The dress was a gift, Caroline," Klaus said, lowly. "I want you to keep it."

Caroline shook her head. "It's too much, really. I wouldn't know what to do with it. And while we're on the subject of gifts…" Her hand rustled inside her bag for a moment, before drawing out a sleek, black velvet jewellery box that contained the expensive – _but freaking gorgeous and something of a kind I'm never going to see again_ – bracelet he gifted her with for her birthday. "I can't accept this, either."

"Now, that I most certainly can't take back," Klaus said, sternly. "That was a birthday gift and an apology for the traumatic incident you experienced on your birthday, that I indirectly caused. Taking it back now would be in poor form. And it was never intended as a part of my gift to you for the ball, Caroline," he said, gently. "It was a gift on its own. Please don't ask me to take it back. I have no one else to give it to. I might as well just throw it into the rubbish."

Caroline looked at him, aghast. "But-but it's a _diamond_ bracelet," she stammered, shocked.

Klaus shrugged. "It holds no value to me if you don't wear it. If you give it back to me, I'll just throw it out."

Caroline gritted her teeth. "That's blackmail," she growled.

Klaus smiled, smugly, raising an eyebrow. "I never said I played fair, sweetheart," he said, playfully.

"Fine," Caroline snapped, shoving the velvet box back into her bag. "But I'm not keeping the dress. I'll have no use for it. I don't plan on attending a debutante ball anytime soon," she said, snidely.

Klaus stared at her for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I can't take that back either."

Caroline scowled at him.

"I have no use for it," he said, quickly. "You and Rebekah, while similar in body shape, are not the same size and this isn't to her style. So, again, I would just have to throw it out," he sighed, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," Caroline said, warningly. "You think if you keep threatening to throw these things out, you'll manage to make me keep them, right? Well, I'm onto you," she said, sharply.

Klaus shrugged. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid. But I swear, there are no nefarious tones to my wheedling. I picked those two gifts especially for you. I truly would have _no_ use for them if you simply gave them back to me. So, in the interest of _someone_ getting _some_ use out of them, keep them and wear them for some other event," he cajoled.

A sharp rush of annoyance swelled inside of Caroline.

"Fine!" She snapped, fed up with his brand of successful persuasion. "I'll take the stupid things back with me." She took a deep breath, waiting for the anger to dissolve before speaking again. "Again, thank you for the gifts and I'm sorry I can't honour your invitation," she said, reluctantly.

"It's alright, Caroline," Klaus said, soothingly, his blue eyes searing lines across her body that made her hitch in a sharp breath. "I understand why you are unable to attend tonight. Rest assured, I am not offended in any way. I may have a dysfunctional relationship with my family," he smiled, wryly, "But I am sure that a girl as kind and warm-hearted and compassionate as you has nothing except love for your family," he said, earnestly. "Take care of yourself. Grieve. I have nothing but belief that you are strong enough to get through this," he said, boldly.

Caroline's voice stuck in her throat at his encouraging, fortifying words. She couldn't help the heat that bled into her skin as a blush flitted across her cheeks, her lips quirking up at the corners. She felt emboldened by his words and his steadfast, reassuring glance. A renewed strength seethed in her mind, swearing to her that she was strong enough to endure and she should use her grief to show why she would remain unbroken. At that moment, a part of her softened for him and she etched his name under her skin in a reminder as to whom had inspired her. Gratitude and sudden affection for him, almost tangible, rolled off her in waves.

"Thank you," Caroline said, quietly. "I'm-I'm just gonna go. I've got some errands to run and I just thought I'd drop these things off and tell you I won't be able to make it tonight. Well, I've done that and you convinced me to keep these things, so I'll just leave then. Thank you again, Klaus."

Klaus tilted his head towards her. "Your welcome, Caroline," He said, lowly, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "I'll show you out, then."

Caroline's eyes widened. "No-no," she stammered, not eager to spend more time in his presence and have him dishevel her mind and emotions even more. "It's okay. I can show myself out."

"Nonsense." Klaus said, sternly. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't see you off?" He asked, pointedly, walking over her to her and motioning for her to walk ahead of him, his fingers poised on the small of her black, bleeding heat into her skin even through her clothes.

They walked in silence through the empty corridor, Caroline preferring not to say or do anything that would disturb the present state of affairs. When they reached the door, Caroline stepped out of Klaus' proximity and over the threshold, turning around to face him and she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, nervously.

"Anyway," she began, awkwardly. "Thank you for understanding… and you have a wonderful home, by the way. Well… see you around." She pursed her lips and turned on her feet, not waiting for his reply before she made her way down the driveway.

Caroline was a short way onto the driveway when she heard Klaus' voice from behind her.

"Caroline!" Caroline spun around, curiously.

Klaus' face was soft and concerned, something that sent dread and confusion pooling in her stomach. "Again, I am very sorry for your loss."

Caroline hitched in a breath, her voice catching in her throat out of surprise. She reared back in shock with the sincerity of the condolence from someone who was thought to be incapable of heartfelt, genuine emotions; someone whom her friends claimed over and over again was pure evil and Satan's disciple. Would Satan's disciple bother to invite her to a ball just in case she might dignify him with a dance, and, at her refusal of his invitation, graciously offer his condolences for a loss to a girl that by all accounts shouldn't be of any significance to him? Frankly, the whole idea made her head spin.

Not to mention her strange attraction to him – which she was most certainly not thinking about.

Caroline's shoulders straightened and she gave him a stiff nod, walking away from the looming mansion.

* * *

 _The stars are so pretty… and bright_.

Caroline giggled to herself, as her eyes rolled around to stare at the empty park she had found herself in after sneaking into the back of the Grill like a ninja and stealing two bottles of vodka before anyone could see. The first bottle lay somewhere on the streets, tossed into a nearby bush, after she had drained it try. The second bottle was still clasped in her hands, still three-quarters full despite her best attempts at making its finale like its predecessor.

She lay on her back on the grass, vodka pressed against her chest protectively, as she stared up at the sky, her blonde hair brimming around her skull like a halo of sunlight against the darkness of the grass. She grimaced, fidgeting when the dampness of the grass seeped through her cotton dress and pressed against her back, making her skin crawl with discomfort. She shifted, trying to escape the slush that had layered underneath her, her nose scrunching up as she hissed. She huffed when she lifted herself up to an upright position, smoothing her hands down her back in an awkward twist to rid herself of the stray blades of grass that clung to her jacket, her hand skidding against the remnants of water, realising that her warm woollen cardigan had bunched up underneath her when she had slumped to the ground. She cursed under her breath and placed the bottle of vodka beside her and smoothed her cardigan, tucking it underneath her arse when she lay back down, snuggling into the warm it provided.

Her hand patted against the grass next to her, in search of her vodka bottle. Finally, it smacked against the glass and she pulled it back against her chest with a relieved sigh, opening the lid and taking a few swigs of it, grimacing at the bitterness that raced down her throat, but settling into the warmth that pooled into her stomach when the bitterness subsided. She wrapped her arms around the vodka and clutched it against her breast like she would a small child, even stroking the length of the bottle with her fingers.

Her eyes rolled up and a giddy smile curved on her lips when she stared up at the stars.

Her head swayed, deliriously, as she hummed to herself, her eyes drifting shut.

 _Twinkle, twinkle, little star_

 _How I wonder what you are_

 _Up above the world so high_

 _Like a diamond_ -

She paused, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on their ends, her eyes narrowing as she heard footsteps fall on the ground behind her. The sluggish heartbeat of a vampire reaching her ears. She frowned to herself and twisted around, awkwardly, onto her stomach.

She tipped her head up, curiously, staring up at the figure, her eyes rolling back to the tip of her socket as she did so, clad in a neatly tailored tuxedo. Her brow furrowed and her eyes squinted through the darkness. She caught a flash of cornflower blue eyes, dishevelled dirty-blonde curls and pale, unmarked skin, and she huffed, exasperated.

"Oh, great," she groaned, her words slightly slurring. "It's _you_ " she said, grimacing.

"Good evening, Caroline," Klaus said, charmingly, ignoring her disdain. He frowned down at her. "Why are you on the ground, love?"

"Oh, I'm having a tea party," Caroline said, sarcastically, the alcohol rushing through her bloodstream and emboldening her. "What does it look like I'm doing, genius? I'm getting drunk so I don't have to think about my dead father," she spat, more out of irritation at herself for being so weak that she had to resort to intoxicating herself instead of dealing with her grief in a healthy manner, than an annoyance at him for bothering her carefully constructed complacency.

She didn't know what it was about him, but he managed to set her off in all the right ways with his mere presence.

She couldn't see or think straight when he was there.

"Ah." Klaus nodded, his eyes turning gentle and sympathetic, which sent butterflies racing to her stomach.

Klaus had wandered the streets of Mystic Falls for the last half hour, after having left his manor home in a huff after the latest escalated drama between Kol and that quarterback his sister fancied currently. When he had heard stray giggles coming from the park, he had decided to investigate, wondering if he might catch a good late-night snack before going home. When he spotted blonde curls splayed on the grass and realised that the drunken giggles had been coming from one, Caroline Forbes, his interest had been piqued and he approached closer, involuntarily being pulled in the young blonde's direction.

"Well, don't you look nice," Caroline said, sarcastically, in an attempt to diffuse the suddenly emotional situation, taking another long swig from her bottle and wetting her mouth with vodka.

She looked up at him critically, noting the way his tailored suit seemed to cling to every sinew of his body, emphasising his broad shoulders and lean build and powerful muscles, the black material contrasting against his pale skin and making it glisten in the moonlight.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly going dry and heat pooling low in her stomach.

 _That's not the alcohol, is it?_

Klaus smirked. "You know, your sarcasm can be very damaging to a man's ego, love," he said, pointedly.

"Don't call me 'love'," she said, sharply. "And I'm so very sorry I offended Your Majesty." She rolled her eyes.

Klaus' lips curved into a smile, covering his shock with a quirk of his lips. He had never been so stunned by a female in his thousand years on this Earth. He stood there, a thousand years of hybrid strength at his advantage, looming over her, and she simply stared up at him with barely-concealed defiance in her blue-green eyes, her lips set in a harsh line. Heat passed between them and he felt himself harden despite himself.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Klaus gestured to the patch of grass beside her.

Caroline's head lolled. "Why are you even here, Klaus?" Caroline's voice slurred, accusingly. "Shouldn't you be at home, enjoying your creepy Cinderella ball?"

"It was very tedious, so I decided to escape before yet another scheming, social-climber vampire could manage to strong-arm me into a dance," Klaus grinned.

Caroline couldn't help the smile that curved onto her mouth at his boyish smile, complete with dimples. Adrenaline rushed through her and she patted the grass beside her in an invitation before she could second-guess herself. Klaus grinned widened and he moved onto the ground beside her, mirroring her own position on the grass and lying on his back, staring at up at the night sky.

"So, you what… ditched your mother's ball?" Caroline asked, curiously. "Won't she get angry?"

Klaus raised an eyebrow, turning to look at her. "Do I look like I'm the age to be afraid of my mother, Caroline?" He asked, teasingly.

"Well, no," Caroline said, grudgingly. "But your mom seems pretty overbearing. And wasn't the ball some kind of show to say that you're all one, big, happy Brady Bunch family?" She asked, her brow furrowing.

"I trust my mother as much as I trust anyone else, Caroline," Klaus said, grimly. "And that is not very much. She has many reasons why she wanted to throw the ball and making us believe she wanted to be a family again, but I do not believe that renewing family bonds was one of them."

Caroline yawned. "So, why don't you just shove her into a box again?" Klaus looked surprised. "What? You thought I didn't know? Elena told me everything. You have serious issues with your family, you know that." She wagged her finger. "You should probably go and see a therapist about them."

"Nevertheless, I cannot make a move against my mother without any proof of her treachery. Unfortunately, my siblings, with the exception of Elijah, are all too quick to believe in my mother's ruse, especially Rebekah. If she is truly not as interested in reconciliation as she claims to be, I will have to tread carefully. She is still quite the powerful witch and a formidable enemy," he explained.

"Wow." Caroline shook her head. "And I thought my family drama was bad. The most my mom and I used to fight about when I was human was my underage drinking."

"And when you were turned?" Klaus asked, interestedly. "Was she accepting of it?"

Caroline snorted. "God, no." She shook her head. "She said I wasn't her daughter anymore. And she was plotting to kill me," she murmured, a pang of pain settling in her heart. She cleared her throat. "But we worked things out and our relationship is stronger than ever," she said, proudly.

"And your father?" Klaus phrased it as a question, but his firm tone told Caroline that he was expecting an answer.

Caroline couldn't figure out for the life of her why he was so interested in her life.

Caroline shrugged. "He divorced my mom when I was ten and he moved out to live with his boyfriend in Georgia."

"Boyfriend?" Klaus' brow furrowed, confused.

Caroline nodded. "My dad was gay. Anyway, we didn't really see each other all that much after that. Sometimes, I'd spend the summer with him and his partner, Steven. But, we never really talked much or spent a lot of time together." She shrugged. "And then he came back when he found out I was a vampire and went all psycho dad on me."

"What do you mean?" Klaus asked, carefully.

"Well, he tried to 'condition' the vampire out of me," Caroline explained, thickly, as emotion swelled inside of her.

"'Condition'? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Klaus asked, his voice sharp with fury.

"He tortured me until he felt that I was 'fixed', so that I wouldn't react to blood," Caroline said, hoarsely, turning her head so that she was staring up at the sky. "And then he got hurt and he needed vampire blood and he was murdered with it still in his system. And he refused to transition because he'd have rather died than be like me," she bit out.

She couldn't look at him. Not when all of this spilled from her mouth.

Shame churned in her stomach.

Klaus couldn't help the _unadulterated rage_ that swept over him at the forlorn look on her face. He was suddenly reminded of his weaker, human self, pathetic in the face of a father who was always much stronger than him, who had no qualms about exerting his power over him, all because he seemed to hate the sight and thought of him – even when he thought Klaus was his own flesh and blood. Seeing this girl, a girl who had yet to even reach twenty years of age, so broken and defeated from horrors she had no place enduring or even witnessing, left his vision spotted with red.

He had the sudden urge to slice open Bill Forbes from belly to throat, dig his hand up to his wrists into warm, wet flesh and bone and blood, and pull out each organ, one by one, all the while keeping the man alive and on the constant edge of agony.

If only the man were alive today.

But he doubted Caroline would want to hear his vengeful thoughts the day after her father's death.

With every word Caroline spoke, he was left more and more awestruck and rattled. He couldn't believe he misjudged her so greatly. At first sight, he thought of her no more as some child who managed to walk into danger so thoroughly she was left a vampire as a result. A girl with no more brains than any other empty-headed cheerleader. From what his sister had told her, he believed her to be exactly the same as his sister and every other woman he came across – shallow, empty-headed and superficial.

When Stefan first stole his coffins, he turned to the entire Mystic Falls gang to find his perfect leverage against his wayward best friend. And he found Caroline. She was the perfect mark for him. Blonde cheerleader with his first hybrid as a boyfriend, his doppelganger as a best friend and the man he had once thought of as a brother as a vampire mentor. She possessed connections in spades. She was the Bennett witch's best friend and the other Salvatore brother sired her.

He ordered Tyler to bite her to show Stefan what he was capable of, to what lengths he would go to end up unscathed. She was nothing more than collateral damage at that time. And he had asked her to the ball in the intention of proving to Tyler and the rest of the Mystic Falls gang how he managed to survive a thousand years on this Earth. They were children compared to him and it was time they understood that if they tried to cross him, they were the ones who would end up hurt.

And Caroline had been the perfect victim.

He had planned to woo her for a little while, charm her enough that she was open to him, looked at him with stars in her eyes. Perhaps take advantage of everything she offered him. He had to admit, she would look stunning, naked and flushed, moaning and writhing in his bed. And if any of her friends had found out that one of their nearest and dearest was fucking the Big Bad Hybrid behind their backs, well, it would have thrown enough dissent into their group that he could've easily taken them all apart, one by one.

But now, every inch of him was rebelling with his earlier intention for Caroline's fate. Her defiance and beaten spirit endeared her to him. His heart raced when he was near her and he felt himself smiling around her more than he had in so many centuries. She made him feel like that human boy he was such a long time ago, ready and eager to face the world with everything he had. The thought of using her in such a way _now_ left a bitter taste in his mouth. It made him sick to his stomach to think that he could hurt her in the same way her father had done.

He ran his tongue over his lips and cleared his throat.

But he couldn't take the risk that feelings for her would bring. The way his heart skipped a beat to her sweet smile. He was approaching dangerous territory. Territory he always belittled others for. Territory he couldn't have for himself. That part of him died on a blood-smeared floor in a ragged hut a thousand years ago.

Caroline Forbes was nothing but a liability.

"You want a drink?" Caroline offered, hesitantly.

Klaus smiled, gently, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her, his tousled blonde curls and boyish grin making her stomach flutter in anticipation. "Hmm, are you sure you want to share a drink with me? After all, I am the enemy, love" he said, teasingly.

"Well, I'm already committing treason." Her smile grew, reluctantly. "Might as well have fun with it." She said, dryly.

"Well, then, I might as well take you up on your offer," Klaus said, pleasantly.

Caroline handed him the bottle of vodka and he took a long gulp from the bottle, leaving only a quarter of the vodka left.

"So," Klaus drawled, licking off his lips the vodka that remained there. "Where is my hybrid tonight, if not helping you cope with your grief?"

"He's not _your_ hybrid," Caroline shot back.

"Is he yours, then?" Klaus smiled, teasingly. "I thought you two broke up," he said, curiously.

"Yeah, because of you and your freaky sire bond with him," Caroline grumbled. She hesitated, something nagging at her thoughts, forcing her mouth open. "What if there was a way to break the sire bond?"

Klaus' brow furrowed. "There isn't..." He trailed off. His eyes hardened, narrowing at her. "Unless you know differently," he said, coldly, thinly-veiled suspicion colouring his voice.

" _Hypothetically_ ," she stressed. "What if there was a way to break the sire bond?" She asked, gently.

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Well, then, love, I'd simply kill them all. After all, what use could I possibly have for hybrids who don't feel the incessant urge to do what I say?" He said, grimly.

Caroline swallowed hard, shaken by the darkness that loomed in his cornflower blue eyes. Where she should and used to feel disgust sliding under her skin, she only found a strange sort of curiosity into how his mind worked. What could have made this man so jaded that he would rather commit a mass murder than endure the possibility of betrayal and treachery?

"Forced servitude tends to come back and bite people in the ass. Just look at history," Caroline said, pointedly.

A part of her didn't fault him for his lack of concern for life – be it human, vampire or hybrid. After a thousand years, she could see how those lessons of right and wrong taught at your parents' knees would fade away. She wondered if she would end up that ruthless and unforgiving if she lived to be his age. It would be easy. To let go of the morals that still bound her to the shallow, naive blonde cheerleader who died in a hospital bed and embrace the monster that she tried so hard to forget roared in her belly.

Klaus clenched his fists, wondering why he was allowing a slip of a girl to offer her opinion on matters beyond her comprehension.

Although, he wouldn't dare admit it, a grudging part of him could actually understand what she was trying to say.

Nevertheless, if he allowed this freedom, he couldn't take the chance she would use his passivity against him in the future

"Perhaps we should talk about something else," Klaus' voice was deadly, his teeth gritting together in the beginnings of a snarl.

"You know, your bipolar-ness is really giving me whiplash," Caroline complained.

Klaus couldn't help but chuckle at the slight whine in her voice. "Very well, then. Perhaps we could move onto more well-mannered subjects. Subjects that are not as likely to result in both of us being at each other's throats," he offered.

Caroline patted his hand in agreement and her head swayed against the grass, close enough for him to catch the scent of lilacs and sunshine in her hair, and he was instantly enthralled.

"So, I have a question." Caroline took a long swig of the vodka clutched in her hand, knowing that the rush of warmth that and the echoing wooziness from the alcohol were the only way to spit out the words stuck in her throat. "Why did you invite _me_ to your ball?"

"I fancy you." Klaus said, simply, watching her with careful eyes, allowing himself to confide that one, honest thought.

He did fancy her. More than she realised.

Caroline laughed, loudly, right in his face, her snickers smacking him with intensity, throwing her head back and letting her giggles rush into the night. When she saw his slightly irritated look, she covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes going wide, snickering still seeping out from between her parted fingers.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry." Caroline said, her giggling hardly stopping. "Here you are, being all serious or charming or seductive or whatever, and here _I_ am, laughing in your face. I bet you've never had a girl react like that before. It must be seriously ego-damaging for you." She patted him on the hand, condescendingly.

"I do fancy you," Klaus said, firmly.

Caroline snorted. "Yeah, right," she scoffed.

"But, I do," he said, insistently. "And why wouldn't I? You're-you're beautiful, you're strong. You're full of light," he said, pointedly. "I enjoy you." He shrugged.

Caroline raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I'm sitting here in the dead of night, in the middle of a deserted park, getting drunk of cheap, supermarket vodka, instead of wearing a pretty dress and jewellery and going to a Cinderella ball. Exactly what about that screams 'strong' and 'full of light' to you?" She asked, incredulously.

Klaus smirked. "I noticed you didn't argue the 'you're beautiful' bit."

Caroline scoffed, "I know I'm hot, Klaus. I'm insecure, not blind."

"Then why not believe me?" Klaus asked, curiously.

"Because it's _you_ ," Caroline shot back. "The evil, insane, megalomaniac hybrid jackass who ruined our lives. You were going to sacrifice me a few months ago. I'm supposed to believe that you fancy me now after two interactions?"

"To be fair, I hadn't met you back then," Klaus said, pointedly. "I'm sure that if I had, I would've changed my mind and chosen another vampire for my sacrifice. And two, despite my actions towards your friends, I have never directly hurt you."

"You made Tyler bite me," Caroline said, accusingly.

"That was nothing personal, love," Klaus said, grimly. "Unfortunately, you got caught in the crossfire and I do apologise for that. And if anything, you should blame your friend, Stefan. If he hadn't been on his silly revenge trip, you would never have gotten hurt. I'm not in the habit of needlessly killing people, Caroline. Especially women as beautiful as you," he said, gently. "I am ruthless and I am a murderer. I will not deny those things because you and I both would know that I was lying. But I don't take some sick pleasure in murder like you believe me to." He shook his head. "Stefan stole my family. He blackmailed me. Did you really expect me not to react to that?" He asked, curiously.

"Two wrongs don't make a right," Caroline argued.

"Yes, but when you live to be a thousand years in a world where everyone is against you – even your own family – you need to be ruthless. You have to show your enemies that you are not weak, that you will not stand by and wait for them to drive the stake into your heart. You have to fight back when backed into a corner, to defend what you care about. You strike them down when they act against you, make such an example such that no one else would _dare_ defy you ever again. When you have lived as long as I have, your textbook morality will fade away until your baser instincts are at the front of your mind. Wouldn't you kill to protect your mother? No matter whom it may be?" He asked, pointedly, his blue eyes boring a hole into her soul and conscience.

"I would." Caroline admitted, grudgingly.

"Everything I do has a purpose behind it. I killed Elena to become a hybrid. I needed to become a hybrid to defeat my father otherwise he would have hunted my siblings and I to our deaths. I apologise if my actions hurt you, but I cannot bring myself to regret them when my father – the man who has destroyed any peace in my life for a thousand years – is finally ash burnt into the ground in front of the Lockwood mansion," he said, firmly. "Now, tell me, are there any other objections?"

"Look," Caroline sighed, unable to argue his point. "You say you fancy me. But you don't even _know_ me." Her gaze turned sharp. "If this really isn't some freaky, insane, twisted plot to seduce me and make me another notch on your probably _ginormous_ bedpost in order to get back at my friends for screwing with you – which, by the way, would be so, so, so fucking wrong and sick and awful and indecent and another couple hundred negative adjectives that I can't think of right now because I'm like _really_ drunk. That would essentially make me think of you as the most evil, immoral motherfucker on the face of the planet – and if you _want_ to keep this strange crush thing going on, if you actually want it to seem somewhat _believable_ , something that I might actually take seriously sometime in the future – no promises, of course – you might want to get to know something about me that isn't in the public domain. Knowing that I'm Miss Mystic Falls and my dad died last night just isn't gonna cut it," she slurred. "You need more info if you _actually_ want me to think of you as more than a sub-par inhuman being."

With that, Caroline snatched up her empty bottle and jumped to her feet, with a great deal of grace for someone who had drunk almost one bottle of sheer vodka with him and most likely more before he arrived. She stalked away from him, her short skirt swishing about her thighs and the moonlight drawing attention to the smooth, porcelain skin that Klaus couldn't help but appreciate for a second, before her last words echoed through him.

"Dinner. Tomorrow night?" Klaus called out from behind her.

Caroline smiled and Klaus could tell she secretly enjoyed his persistence, which suited him, because he had no intention of giving up now – now that he had only started to crack open her skull and discover what lay in that pretty little head.

"Fair warning, this might be the alcohol talking." Klaus could hear the laughter in Caroline's voice and knew her answer would be the same tomorrow. "But, what the hell. It's a date."

Klaus was reluctant to stop the boyish grin from flitting across his face, surprised at one of the first genuine rushes of warmth and happiness in his insides in a thousand years.

"Goodnight, Caroline," Klaus couldn't help but say, sneakily.

Caroline chuckled, clutching the cool bottle close to her chest. "G'night, Klaus."


	4. And Hell's poor souls (Klaroline)

**This is a KC Hades/Persephone Week drabble for anon on Tumblr.**

 **Prompt: Hades' (Klaus) brothers, golden child Zeus (Elijah) and reckless Poseidon (Kol) drop by the underworld to meet his new wife. They walk into to find Persephone (Caroline) turning the throne room into her own personal garden.**

 _And Hell's poor souls whirl round us as they glade_

Lightning flashed and the dust of Hell flew up around the man who suddenly stood in the darkness. He was tall, pale skinned but with dark, angular features – high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a straight, aquiline nose. A slight stubble covered his strong jawline and his hair was thick, matted dark waves that fell to the tops of his shoulders. His eyes were a careful, wary hazel-brown. His lean, muscular body was encased in a suit, tense as though expecting an attack to land on him the moment he turned.

His lips quirked up at the corners as something shifted behind him, the gravel that covered the floor of the ruins skidding forwards at the movement of whomever hid from him.

"Were you attempting to slip past me, Kol?" He asked, amusedly.

Kol appeared out of the shadows, handsome features contorted into a displeased scowl.

"Well, yes," Kol muttered. "But you didn't have to take the fun out of it, Elijah."

Elijah turned around, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully at his younger brother. He had to admit that Kol took after him in his colouring, rather than favouring their sister and brother's fairer looks. Kol possessed the same dark locks, his hair instead styled into dishevelled short, choppy spikes, bangs falling around his face. His face was leaner than Elijah, possessing more innocence in his lean, athletic build than his hardened older brother. His eyes were a dark-chocolate brown that shone with his recklessness, and he wore a simple jacket over a dark, buttoned-down shirt and jeans.

"I assume you too received our brother's missive." Elijah raised an eyebrow.

"Sure did." Kol said, cheerfully. "Why else would I be here? Of course, when I opened it, I wasn't expecting the news of our brother's recent nuptials. That came as a surprise, as I'm sure it did for you too." He shook his head. "It was one hell of a shock. What kind of mad bird would be willing to marry such a moody bastard like Niklaus?" He asked, sceptically.

Elijah paused. "I did not find the invitation very welcoming. Did you?"

Kol frowned, thoughtfully. "You don't think he's still in his 'angry-that-we-trapped-him-in-the-Underwold-because-we-didn't-want-to-deal-with-his-broody-face-all-day' phase, do you?" He asked, slowly.

Elijah's eyebrows flew up. "If he were, why would he invite us all the way to the Underworld to meet his new wife?" He looked hopeful. "Perhaps he wishes to bury the hatchet. Perhaps his wife has convinced him of the benefits to having family at his side instead of wallowing in his own loneliness. We could start anew. As a family."

Kol snorted. "You think too much of Nik as always, Elijah." He clapped him on the shoulder. "Prepare to be disappointed."

Fire raged around them as the walked forwards. The walls were black with ash and dust and brimstone clinging to them, cracked in areas and hollowed out, showing their age. Kol scrunched his nose up in distaste as the scent of burning flesh and rotting bones, and the sound of screaming torment reached his senses. Finally, after a few moments, they emerged out from the ruined alcove they had appeared into. They now stood in a corridor of a beautiful palace, the floors lined with black marble and the walls cluttered with various artworks – most of which Niklaus had created himself out of sheer boredom of sitting on a throne all day and watching as all the poor bastards who died came to reside within in his kingdom.

"You truly believe that Niklaus will never forgive us for what did?" Elijah asked, sombrely, his jaw tightened with pain.

Kol sighed. "You know Nik. He holds a grudge unlike anyone I have ever seen." He said, pointedly. "I wouldn't be surprised if this sudden desire for a family reunion was nothing more than an overture to please his pretty new wife – I'm sure he's still in 'I'm getting shagged on a constant basis, therefore, I'm less moody' land." He chuckled, his eyes flashing wickedly.

Elijah glared at him. "Don't be crass, Kol." He scolded.

Kol whistled. "When Katerina gets angry at you, she really does get angry, doesn't she?" "Oh, come now, Elijah," Kol grinned. "I know your marriage has lasted for some six thousand years and the spark has probably died out, but there's no need to begrudge your little brother some good sex if he's getting it." He raised an eyebrow, knowingly. "Let me guess, Katerina's still clocking your movements and you have to be back on Olympus by sundown? Or she'll get all sore and jealous and have your head for breakfast?"

Elijah sighed, wearily, running his hand through his hair. "Yes. Unfortunately, she still harbours some resentment about having to stay on Olympus while I go gallivanting around the three realms at the behest of my wayward brother – her words, of course." He said, grimly.

"Is she still angry because of that nymph girl's fascination with you?" Kol asked, curiously. "Hayley, wasn't it? I thought she bound the strumpet to a wheel on Mount Ida and made Harpies rip her insides apart at dawn every single day?" He shook his head. "That's one way to teach a lesson to home-wrecking whores." He muttered under his breath.

"She did." Elijah nodded. "But she remains wary of my movements."

Kol sighed and shook his head. "I tell you, Elijah. You need to find a way to spice up your marriage. If Katerina was a little more sated and preoccupied to follow your around the three realms, everything would be light and easy for you."

Elijah sniffed. "There is nothing wrong with my marriage. Katerina and I are very content."

Kol snorted. "Katerina is _content_ with tormenting the next poor bint who thinks she can get a piece of you if she flutters her pretty eyes at you. Otherwise, she wouldn't care less."

"She loves me." Elijah said, coldly.

"I never denied that." Kol shrugged. "But she also loves herself. And she also loves being Queen of the Gods and lording that over Niklaus after everything he did to those human boys she took a liking to. She wouldn't let anyone or anything threaten her place in the Pantheon and you know it." His voice lowered. "Of course she loves you, Elijah. But you look at the woman with rose-coloured glasses. You only see what you want to see and you look at her as if expecting her to be the same sweet girl she was before we locked Mikael and Esther in Tartarus. We've all changed since then, not just Katerina. Perhaps if you started to accept her for who she is now, things between you would be better, and Katerina would stop being so high-strung every time you left her side. She feels insecure now that you don't look at her with those lovesick eyes anymore. Show her that no matter how much she changes, your love for her will be constant, and she will remain warm and pliant in your arms for the rest of eternity." He said, urgently.

Elijah looked at Kol, amazed. "When did you become the leading expert on women, brother?"

Kol shrugged. "Oh, I love women. I've always loved women. In fact, there's a particular sea nymph that warms my bed that I simply cannot get enough of." He waggled his eyebrows, although his eyes were soft with genuine affection for the dark-skinned nymph with sweet, green eyes that captivated his mind and haunted his every thought.

A smile played on Elijah's lips. "Are you in love, Kol?" He asked, bemused.

Kol snorted. "Oh, don't try to be funny, Elijah. It's not your best feature." He scoffed. "Of course, I'm not in love," His voice wavered just the slightest. "I appreciate a certain girl's talents in my bed, that is all."

Elijah sighed, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Whatever you wish to believe, brother. Remain in your own delusions." A knowing smile played on his lips.

They strode through the large corridor, ignoring the way blood had worked its way into the crevices between the black marble tiles, until they finally reached a pair of large, mahogany double doors that went up as far as the eye could see.

Kol sighed. "His Royal Grumpiness awaits." He drawled.

Both Kol and Elijah frowned, the sound of tinkling humming reaching their ears through the wooden doors.

"Fifty drachma says that it's his wife singing in there."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "Who else could it possibly be?"

Kol shrugged. "Perhaps our brother has started his very own harem of lovely women."

Elijah narrowed his eyes at Kol. "Do you ever think of anything _but_ sex?"

Kol paused, thoughtfully. "Sometimes I think about murder. But other than that, no." He said, firmly, shrugging. "So, shall we go inside and meet the poor woman who is fated to stay at our brother's side for the rest of eternity – or at least until he tires of her and he kills her?"

The doors swung open without any further act on their parts and their eyes widened in surprise at what lay in front of them.

Their brother's normally shadowed, dingy throne room – unwelcoming in its very nature – now appeared to be something resembling a greenhouse. Vines sprouted from cracks and crevices in the stone walls and curved and curled in every direction, winding themselves around every fixture that lay inside. The room was bathed in a warm glow, from sunlight that could never make an appearance in the deepest circle of the Underworld where Niklaus resided. Flowers brimmed on the various vines, budding and adding splashes of colour against the dark walls. Daffodils thrived against the edges between the wall and floor, as yolk-yellow as ducklings floating in the pond.

Leaves fluttered against the vines that sprawled across the room, all manner of hues – scorching oranges, burning browns, molten reds and cool, clean greens, some drifting down and landing on the floor without a single sound. Plush-green hedges spanned the width of two opposing walls, verdant and full and brimming with life, lipstick-pink peonies adorning the fringes of the hedges and honeysuckle entwining the lush green with its softness and beauty. Butterfly wings fluttered against the veritable smorgasbord of wildflowers and greenery, their wings like gunpowder against the vibrancy of the flora that littered the room, stunning Kol and Elijah with the idea that life could exist in the realm of the dead. and if Kol and Elijah closed their eyes, they were sure they could hear the clear and fresh sound of birdsong floating to the ears. That was how stirred they were by the sight before them.

In the middle of the room, in front of the two jagged, iron thrones at the front, stood a woman wearing a long white dress that fell to her bare feet. Her skin was lush and creamy, like milk and porcelain, and her hair was the colour of sunshine and spun gold, falling in delicate curls to the bottom of her shoulder blades. She twisted around, hearing footsteps behind her, and revealed a kind face, with blue-green eyes and a pink mouth, quirked up in a bright, toothy grin that lit up her face. She was a beauty – no one could deny that, but it wasn't her comeliness that her drew their gaze and interest – it was the light that shone on her face, as if her flesh were made from diamonds and gold. As if pure warmth fluttered underneath her skin and they were no more than mortals basking in the sunshine.

Her eyes echoed with realisation, her brow furrowing, and her smile grew infinitesimally until both brothers stood there, awestruck at the beauty of her expression. "Oh!" She cried. "You must be Elijah." Her gaze swivelled to the younger of the two brothers. "And Kol!"

Kol swaggered forwards, a charming grin flitting onto his face, unable to resist the opportunity. "And you must be the beauty my brother managed to swindle into marrying him." His voice lowered to a whisper. "What did you do, darling? Lose a wager?"

"Caroline, love, are you quite done with all your decorating, because I think you are going overboard with-" Klaus paused once he had stormed inside the throne room he had reluctantly and ignorantly given his wife full reign over, stilling and his eyes narrowing when he realised who had managed to slither into _his_ throne room undetected. He should've known. "Oh, it's _you two_." He said, grimacing, his lip curling with distaste.

"Klaus!" Caroline chided, much to Kol and Elijah's surprise and wonderment. "Be nice. They're your brothers."

"Sweetheart, they're the reason why you only get to see your mother six months a year." Klaus said, gently.

"No, Klaus, _you're_ the reason why I only get to see my mother six months a year." Caroline shot back, snidely, her nose scrunching up. " _They're_ the assholes who tricked you into be trapped in this place. Don't be greedy when you're assigning blame." She said, pointedly.

Kol whistled low. "That's quite a girl you've got for yourself, Nik."

Caroline raised an eyebrow, staring at Kol with thinly veiled disdain. " _Excuse you_. I'm standing right there and I'm not an object. So, watch it." She said, coldly.

Kol smirked. "You sure have a lot of bravery for a girl who's disrespecting a God that could turn you to dust with a snap of my fingers." He said, warningly.

Klaus tensed, sliding to Caroline's side, wrapping a protective arm around Caroline's waist, his hand landing on her hip as a warning to his brothers – _touch Caroline and I will make the rest of your eternities miserable until you beg me to end your lives_.

Caroline scoffed, nonplussed by his threat, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't think so, honey. You're in my wheelhouse, remember. And what I say goes, here."

Kol stared her down for a few moments, Caroline looking back at him, unflinchingly, pure steel in her otherwise kind blue-green eyes. Finally, Kol blinked, impressed, and grinned. "Wow, Nik. You got yourself a winner here."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I already knew that, Kol. I wasn't looking for your validation." He said, snidely.

Caroline elbowed him, gently, in the stomach. "Come on, be nice," She said, softly, her curls tickling his face. "Remember what I said? It's time to bury the hatchet."

Klaus grunted. "Easier said than done."

"Come now, Niklaus, we come in peace." Elijah said, soothingly, stepping forward, his entire presence setting Klaus' teeth on edge. "Isn't it time we put this petty feud behind us?"

Klaus snorted. "Easier said than done, _brother_ ," He said, mockingly. "I can't just make millennia upon millennia of resentment and betrayal disappear all because your conscience is eating at you in your old age."

"Well, you seemed to have fashioned a life for yourself here, as well as a few _comforts_ with which to amuse yourself." Kol leered at an irritated Caroline.

"You know what, Kol-" Klaus began, hotly, his eyes sharpening as he caught sight of the way Kol ogled Caroline.

This was why he had never wanted to invite them here. But had Caroline listened? No.

"Enough!" Caroline roared, her hands falling to her cocked hip, and the men fell silent, turning to stare at her with abashed eyes. "I've had it with the bickering. You three are supposed to be in charge of the damn world and you're definitely not acting like it. All three of you have screwed up in some way or another and it's time for you to stop acting like babies and suck it up!"

"Caroline, love-"

"Don't 'Caroline, love' me, Niklaus." Caroline said, sharply. "So help me, if you do not play nice with your brothers for as long as they're here to visit us, you'll be sleeping on that lovely little chaise we have in our room, _instead_ of our warm bed. _With me_. Got it?" She said, challengingly.

Klaus nodded, reluctantly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks and shifting his feet.

"While you obviously seem to have adequate leverage on our lovesick brother, Caroline – because what mortal or God would want to be deprived of your lovely warmth and body –, I fail to see why _we_ should agree to your terms." Kol said, sceptically.

Caroline stared at them, coldly. "You really don't want to know what I'm capable of if you piss me off." She threatened.

Klaus nodded, reluctantly. "Do as she says and all will be well." He said, warningly.

Caroline scowled and rounded on him. "Don't make me look like some monster." She shot back.

"I wasn't!" Klaus protested. "But, sweetheart, sometimes words speak for themselves." He said, slowly.

"Are you calling me some high-strung, bossy nutjob?" Caroline snapped, raising an eyebrow.

Klaus rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly, embarrassed to be caught in such a weak position with his wife by his brothers. "Well, of course not, love-"

Kol and Elijah simply watched the interaction between the two with surprise and amusement. It was an original scene before them – to see their brother thoroughly flustered and at a loss, all because of the wilful blonde slip of a girl, with fiery eyes, a kind heart and a bearing that screamed respect, he had fallen for and married. It was no wonder that after thousands of years of silence, Klaus had sent them that letter inviting them to his home and to meet his new wife; if this was the sort of influence she had on their cold, heartless brother.

"Is that the kind of impression you want your brothers to have of me?" Caroline shot back.

Klaus snorted. "I couldn't care less what _they_ thought." Caroline glared at him and he backtracked. "Of course not, love. But who could not love you at first sight?" He asked, soothingly. "You are so beautiful and kind and full of light that it would be a horrific crime if someone were not to instantly lose their heart to you the way I did."

He approached her, skittishly. He had his arms wrapped around her and her head tucked under his chin, her nose jutting into his clavicle, before she could protest. Caroline pouted, but nonetheless melted into his warm embrace. Kol and Elijah watched as their normally emotionless brother stroked warm and soothing circles up and down Caroline's spine, turning her bones to liquid as she curled into his embrace. Klaus' lips brushed, sweetly, against the top of her head, against her hairline, as his fingers threaded through her blonde curls and stroked a reassuring hand down her back. He mumbled something nonsensical and unspoken in her ears and she nodded against his chest. They pulled away from one another, Klaus's hands still gripping Caroline's hips, and Kol and Elijah witnessed the first, genuine smile they had seen on their brother's face in what seemed like their entire existences.

Caroline cleared her throat and shook her head, as if willing away the redness that had blotched on her cheeks with pure will. She ran her hand through her hair and shook it out, letting it curl gracefully around her face. She drew her pride and dignity around her like a cloak and wore the face of a true queen, Klaus beaming proudly at his wife.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get back to making the throne room all nice and pretty. It could use a woman's touch." Caroline sniffed.

"Whatever you say, love." Klaus sighed and winced as he caught sight of a hedge tangled with daisies. "Just… don't go too overboard with all the flowers, sweetheart. I do have a reputation to uphold." He said, warningly.

"Yeah, yeah," Caroline rolled her eyes, showing what she really thought of his so-called reputation, and waved him off, turning her back to the three brothers and raising her hands.

Klaus smiled, indulgently, at his lovely wife and his heart skipped a beat at the pleasure that shone in her blue-green eyes, the sweet curve of her mouth never failing to make him fall in love with her all over again, as she continued to work her magic, wisps of magic flowing from her fingers and seething into the dingy walls with their warmth, warmth and life erupting from wherever her light touched, walls that had only ever seen darkness until she had swept them into her incandescence.

The same way she had done him.


	5. he saw my bones beneath (Klaroline)

**Okay, this is my second KC Hades/Persephone Week drabble for klovec/loveyou914.  
**

 **Prompt: Klaus first met Caroline when she came home with his sister as one of Rebekah's human friends. Klaus didn't have much use for humans but was taken with Caroline. He kidnaps her and turns her to make her his eternal companion. KC-Hades/Persephone Inspired**

* * *

 _he saw my bones beneath and offered me half his kingdom_

Surprisingly, it was the dawn of spring the first time Rebekah brought Caroline home to meet her reclusive brothers –

– Klaus still rolled his eyes at the frankly plebeian human name his sister had chosen - _Rebekah_ , _really, little sister_? –

– but a thousand years later had given him time to come to terms with and accept her ill-advised decision –

– and Caroline had to blink a few times the first time she laid eyes on the trio of _hot-as-fuck_ brothers of her newest friend.

The one in the middle – all dishevelled blonde curls and stubble that she would love to feel scrape against the inside of her thighs – had her heart racing to a completely different rhythm with just one, sly smirk on his reddened lips – _why the fuck are his lips so red?_ – Caroline one-part aroused, one-part annoyed at the smugness she could practically see emanating from him. It was just the way his head was cocked and his cornflower-blue eyes ran over her body, as if he were judging her and deeming her good enough for him – _like who the hell even cares?_ She thought, spitefully, as a way of distracting herself from the way her stomach clenched at the burning, _I-want-you-in-my-bed-naked-and-moaning-and flushed_ look he was gracing her with – _the asshole_.

Klaus' lips curled into a smile when his eyes feasted upon the delicious morsel his sister had brought home for him, choosing deliberately to ignore the sharp, warning look in his sister's ice-blue eyes, telling him quite firmly to keep his dark, ashen, death-bringing Underworld hands off her new best friend otherwise she would cause him a great deal of pain –

– although he barely resisted the urge to scoff out loud at this – lest he make the lovely Caroline think he was positively mad – and he was, just not in an psychosis kind of way, at least not in human terms – after all what could the Goddess of the harvest possibly to her brother who ruled the dominion of the Underworld with an iron fist and even more vicious bite –

But Klaus smiled, welcomingly, nonetheless. He didn't want to scare the poor girl off right away, of course. Not when his interest had only just peaked. The feeling of a soft heard reaching into his ribcage and squeezing his heart, purposefully, jarred him back to reality, and his lips stretched into a boyish grin, dimples that had charmed the knickers off countless woman appearing. Klaus delighted in the way a pink flush rose to Caroline's cheeks. He could smell the hormones sliding on her skin, perspiration beading on her upper lip, palms sweaty, heartbeat quick and dilated pupil.

 _Perfect._

Klaus' stride was purposeful and predatory and he stopped within inches of her, his hand sweeping hers into his large palm and lifting it up to his mouth to brush a warm kiss on the curve of her delicate knuckles.

"Hello, Caroline," His voice was low and smooth and seductive, his accent curling around every individual syllable of her name and managing to turn it into _both_ the sweetest lyric she had ever heard _and_ trademark dialogue out of a soft-core porn flick. "It is very nice to finally meet you. I am Klaus, Rebekah's older brother. I've heard so much about you." His blue eyes swept over the lean figure she cut. "Of course, Rebekah never told me you were so beautiful."

Caroline swallowed hard and snatched her hand away, her hands fidgeting amongst each other as she vainly tried to ignore the tingles that erupted from her knuckles, stretching into every single vein in hand until her entire arm was trembling.

She cleared her throat and brushed a few locks of spun-gold hair out of her face. Her eyes turned sharp, something which only hollowed out the hunger that was churning in Klaus' stomach.

 _Feisty little thing, aren't you? I'll have fun taming you._

"So, which one are you?" She asked, loftily, her hand falling to her hip. "Rebekah told me she has a gazillion older brothers. Which one are you? Grumpy, Sleazy or Saintly?"

"Grumpy." Rebekah piped in and grinned to herself when Klaus' dark, warning eyes turned onto her.

"I'm afraid you'll have to take any perception of me that comes from Rebekah with a grain of salt, love." Klaus said, teasingly. "She's always had it in for me. I'd hate to think that our budding relationship would be spoilt by what she sees fit to whisper into your ear."

Caroline scoffed. "You're getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" She said, snidely.

Klaus shrugged. "It's my gift. I always know what is worthy and what isn't. And you, sweetheart, are definitely worthy." He purred.

Caroline snorted. "You're charming, I'll give you that. But I'm not interested, Dimples. Plus, I have a boyfriend and I don't think he'd like it all that much if he knew you were hitting on me."

Caroline didn't notice the rush of hot, possessive fury that flitted onto Klaus' face for a brief moment at Caroline's reckless confession. But Rebekah did, and knowing her brother's propensity for anger and violence – after all, it came with his job –, she was at Caroline's side in less than a second, tugging on Caroline's wrist with enough fervency that she caught her friend's attention.

"Come on, Care, we can go work on our project in my room. Get away from my brothers that way." Rebekah said, urgently.

Caroline frowned, slightly bewildered by her vehemence, but acquiesced nonetheless.

* * *

It was months later that Caroline made her next trip to the Mikaelson mansion. She couldn't help the way her stomach fluttered in anxiety as she walked the cobbled path to the looming manor. She never forgot the way blue eyes tore holes into every defence she had constructed for herself. A breeze tore through the trees that surrounded the manor – a completely unheralded event as far as summers in Mystic Falls were concerned – and Caroline shuddered, her arms wrapping around her middle and rubbing, as she cautiously approached the sombre home – _it's like something out of a fucking Gothic horror novel_ – she resolved to talk to Rebekah about her house's appearance from the outside – _why can't it be like the house in The Great Gatsby? I wouldn't mind visiting that house._

Now, she just felt like she was walking towards the guillotine to be beheaded in front of thousands of avid spectators, or someone would snatch from the ground she walked on and stuff her in some attic in the middle of nowhere until she went completely mental from all the boredom.

The ornate door swung open just as she raised her closed fist to knock.

 _Well, that's not creepy at all._

Caroline's screwed up her nose and stepped over the threshold, her footsteps echoing in the dimly-entrance hall. She turned around the corner, in the direction where she could hear the soft footfalls of steps and the clinking of glass. Her brow furrowed and she could hear a mumbled, hushed voice, as if someone were speaking to themselves. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and proceeded through the corridor until she came to a solitary room at the end, with the door ajar, letting in just slivers of light into the dark room.

Caroline rapped her knuckles on the door and hearing no answer, took a cautious step inside, the door opening with a slight creak – _fuck, that was creepy_. Her eyes squinted as she adjusted to the lack of light, blinking furiously as her eyes watered just a bit.

 _Maybe I should've given this whole Lara Croft-Nancy Drew thing more thought._

From her vantage point, all she could see was a slumped-over figure sitting in a plush armchair, a bottle of glistening, wet bourbon swaying in one hand that was splayed across the armrest. Blonde curls glinted through the shards of light slipping through the gap in the door and Caroline sighed, rolling her eyes. She hesitated before taking slow, careful steps into the dark room, her hand searching the wall beside the door for any light switch that would finally shed a little brightness on the contents of a room that were slowly giving her the shivers – _I've been watching way too many slasher flicks_.

Finally, her fingers fell upon a small knob on a panel that she ended up smacking with her palm. She flicked it upwards and the room was flooded with artificial light. There was a low, masculine groan and Caroline's eyes narrowed at the figure curled up with booze in the armchair.

Klaus sat there, slumped over on himself, his head hanging limply against his chest, his bottle of scotched pressed against his chest like a lifeline. His eyes were lidded and bloodshot with inebriation and his head swayed, absentmindedly, as if he weren't in control of his own movements.

Caroline approached him, cautiously, her ballet flats skimming against the carpeted floor with minimal noise. Once she reached the armchair, she crouched down in front of him, her hand reaching forward to shake him awake, which he did with a start, staring down at her with bleary eyes.

"Who are you? Wh-what are you doing in my house?" He slurred, his hand sweeping out to the side.

"Klaus? It's me, Caroline. Remember? Rebekah's friend." Caroline said, carefully. "I came to your house a couple of months ago to do some homework with Rebekah and you hit on me like crazy?" She joked, half-heartedly.

"Caroline. Sweet Caroline." Klaus mumbled. "With hair like sunshine and gold."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "I'll take that as the alcohol talking." She said, dryly, ignoring the way her heart twinged and goosebumps flitted across her skin at the affectionate sliver in his low words.

"What-what are you doing here?" Klaus asked.

Caroline shrugged. "Well, I came to see Rebekah. We have some studying to do for finals. But apparently she's not here and you are and you're drunk and this was _so_ not what I was expecting when I showed up here." She babbled. "I hope you don't think I was breaking and entering because the door was totally open when I got here, and my mom's the Sheriff and I really don't want to spend tonight in a jail cell for trespassing, so if you could just forget all this happened, I'd be really grateful-"

"Caroline!" Klaus said, sharply, his voice coherent despite the alcohol sluggishly moving through his system, and his thumb came to slide across Caroline's lower lip in an attempt to still the flow of words spilling from her mouth. "You talk too much." He said, a flash of humour glinting in his eyes.

Caroline flushed right to her cheeks, the redness of her blush travelling endearingly and unsurprisingly temptingly from the base of her throat, contrasting against the milky-white, creamy skin. She quickly shrugged away from his finger on her mouth, the calloused pad of his finger moving smoothly against her lip-glossed stained lower lip, before she gave into the persistent urge thrumming under her skin to suck his finger into her mouth and savour the taste of him on her tongue, something low in her stomach clenching.

She cleared her throat and sighed. "Come on, Drunky McDrunkerson, let's get you somewhere else less depressing than this room." She sniffed, haughtily, her gaze wandering to the few empty bottles of scotch and vodka and whiskey and various other forms of alcohol that littered the floor. "It can't be doing wonders for your sudden desire to drink all the alcohol the world has to offer. Something tells me I don't want to know whatever turned you into a real life version of Tony Stark."

Klaus chuckled, coldly. "There is not much in this world that could drive to me drink as much as this, Caroline. Merely my family."

Caroline snorted. "Everyone's got issues with their family. You don't see me drinking a whole wine cellar's worth of alcohol." She said, pointedly.

"Oh, my issues with my family have been steadfast and constant for a number of years, love." Klaus grunted. "When you get to the point I have in our family feud, all you _can_ do is drink yourself into a stupor."

With a great deal of difficulty, Caroline slid an awkward arm around Klaus' arm and hauled him up to his feet, throwing one of his arms around her shoulders to steady him, as they slowly trotted out of the drawing room that Klaus had cloistered himself in.

Caroline chewed on her lower lip, staring at Klaus' hunched over figure –

– his warmth pressed into her side and sending streaks of heat through her body that reached even her mind and made her dizzy from the scent of his fresh aftershave and the booze lingering on his mouth – _like, seriously, how is his mouth that red and almost like he put fucking lip-gloss on it to make it look extra plump and kissable –_ but she definitely wasn't thinking about that – not at all – because all she wanted to do was help him into a nice cold shower and wash the scotch off him – and she most certainly would not be getting inside with him and _that was so not what I was getting at with my shower plan – I dare anyone to say differently –_

– worry etched into her thoughtful blue-green eyes –

– the colour of turquoise, Klaus thought absentmindedly.

"Maybe I should take you to the emergency room. You might need your stomach pumped." Caroline said, uneasily.

"I'll be fine, love." Klaus growled out, his heart clenching at the sheer concern that coloured her voice.

No one had ever shown him concern –

– he was the God of the Underworld, for Tartarus' sake – the king of the Dead – lonely and unforgiving –

– that wasn't exactly conducive for great, fulfilling relationships with others – including his family.

He was powerless in the face of the sudden urge to nuzzle her hair as subtly and inconspicuously as possible – after all, he may be older than dirt, but he was no dirty old man– vanilla and peaches and an undercurrent of lavender, he was right – and he did so gleefully, resolving to commit the sweet, _human_ scent of her to his memory.

For someone human and slight and hardly a body-builder, Caroline's grip on him was uncompromising as she led him from the room – even though he really didn't need her assistance, the alcohol sliding out of his veins with every step he took – but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her onto that fact.

Her hair bounced as they proceeded through the corridor, moving through the labyrinth-like mansion until they reached the front sitting room, flooded with light from the door that Caroline had left open. Caroline flushed and deposited Klaus on the nearest couch before quickly closing it behind her. She frowned at the darkness that quickly enveloped the room and moved over to the nearest window, thrusting open the dark, heavy drapes until sunlight lashed in with great force, making Klaus flinch from the sudden shock to his vision.

His hand slid through his dishevelled, sweat-dampened curls before dragging over his face and rubbing his eyes with vigour with the heels of his hand. He ran his tongue over his lower lip and he cautiously opened his eyes to find her standing in front of him, silent –

– although he suspected it was a hard vocation for her – _the first genuine smile in centuries flitted across his face as if he were no more than a lovesick boy, not even of age, desperate to see if she trembled under his kisses, if her heart quivered with every graze of his fingers, if she would arch and expose the lean, smooth line of her throat for him to sink his fangs onto and moan at the gush of her blood onto his tongue –_

– and her eyes flecked with annoyance, her feet tapping impatiently against the floor, her hand on her hips, cocked in his direction, the taut, hard line of her lush red mouth unimpressed by his antics and the trouble she had gone through.

He sat there, staggered by her ill-advised defiance, his elbows propped up on his thighs, hands inches away from his face

"So," Caroline began, her lips twisting in an echo of a voice that brooked no argument. "Are you going to tell me what was it that made you decide to drink the town's whole alcohol supply in one go?" She asked, crossing her arms over his chest and fixing him with a sharp, piercing look in her blue-green eyes, suddenly flecked with hazel.

Klaus raised an eyebrow, slivers of pride sliding through his veins like hot currents. "Perhaps I don't want to talk about it, love. It is private, after all." He said, challenging, leaning back on the sofa, propping one of his feet to rest on his thigh and sliding his hands to rest on the back of his skull.

Caroline scoffed, the sweet, feminine, _disinterested_ sound sending pulses of heat and interest shotting down Klaus' back until the monster that roared under his skin stormed out of its cage to feast its eyes on a good look at the first _mortal_ that had dared treat him with such indifference in the thousands upon thousands of years that he had been the ruin of mortal life –

– the 'King of the Dead' was no mere moniker someone had gifted him with – his hate and darkness had sunk in and destroyed more souls like Caroline's than he had petted and coddled –

– so what was it about this insignificant little slip of a girl who was no more important than her irritating ability to stick her nose into matters that were not her concern –

– _why did she affect him so much, twist his world on its axis and fill his eyes with the sunshine from her hair and the honey of her voice?_

"I'm sorry, but does it look like _you get a vote_?" Caroline asked, snidely. "I just found you completely wasted. You lost any right to claim 'it's private, mind your own business' when I helped you up here." Her hands fell to her hips. "So, let's try this again, shall we? You want to tell me what the hell messed you up so bad that you decided to drink yourself stupid in the middle of the afternoon?" She asked.

Her voice was threaded with just enough worry that Klaus felt a hand jam its way down his throat and squeeze his heart with enough force that he lost any and all ability to breathe, his insides turning to liquid at the force of the concern shining in her aquamarine eyes.

"Why else do people drink, love?" His voice rumbled in a growl, washing over her in waves of pleasure that made goosebumps rise to her arms. "Family drama."

Caroline slowly took a seat on the opposite armchair, leaning forwards until her elbows were jutting into her thighs and placing her chin in her upturned palms.

"Do you wanna maybe talk about it?" Caroline offered, hesitantly, the lines of her face drawn with warmth and the beginnings of affection.

Klaus chuckled, darkly, the sound going to her ears like smooth, heady whiskey down her throat. "Unfortunately, my issues with my siblings are a bit more complicated than a single conversation's worth." He bit out, fury coiling in his stomach until he was forced to stamp down the urge to flash amber, rage-ridden eyes and sharp, bloodthirsty fangs.

Caroline shrugged. "Maybe so, but I've had my fair share of experience with crappy family members. And I'm always here to lend a listening ear if you want one." She said, gently.

Klaus stared at her, bemused at the sheer, honesty that shone on her face. He found a strange fluttering beginning in his ribs – a fluttering that he had never felt before –

– and he realised with amazement and slow horror that the fluttering was _fondness_ –

– and his heart skipped a beat and something clenched in his stomach and he blinked, the warmth spreading through his chest like a torrent of ice water on his skin.

Possessiveness seared through his veins and his cornflower-blue eyes turned sharp as they flecked with gold, when they focused on Caroline's worried visage. He wanted her. He had known that the moment she had walked into his home, his sister at her hip, and had bared her teeth in outrage at his attempts to charm her into dropping her knickers for him. She had hardly been the first woman to reject him. But she was the first woman to utterly enchant the likes of him.

He wanted her – naked and flushed and wet and moaning on his silk sheets, the taste of her blood and skin like wine on his tongue – heady and complex all at once.

It was beginning to set in his bones now.

And he would have her.

He just had to find a way to make her want him –

– want everything that he brought along with him – the death, the throne, the kingdom, the crown and the eternity –

– as desperately as he was becoming.

"But no pressure." Caroline sighed, leaning back against the armchair and letting her sunshine-coloured, spun-gold tresses – that danced as flashes of light perched on them – spill down the backrest.

Heavy-lidded eyes, lashes fluttering, his lip curled into the bitter remnants of a grin, his mouth touched with softness for _her_ despite the displeasure that curdled in his stomach at the reminder of the events that had led to his decision to drink himself into a stupor.

"My siblings… and I… have always had trouble getting along." Klaus said, grimly. "A long time ago, they did something because they felt was necessary to… subdue me when I was out of control, and we never completely recovered from that." He cleared his throat, straightening on the couch.

Caroline frowned in confusion. "Subdue you? What does that even mean? What, did they drug you and lock you in some kind of cell or something? Like a prisoner-esque intervention." She giggled to herself.

Klaus smirked, unwilling to acknowledge how much the irony of her comment amused him.

"So, what did they do?" Caroline asked, curiously. She pursed her lips, a self-admonishing blush rising to her cheeks. "If you don't mind me asking."

Klaus' smile was sharp. "Let's just say something they and I both knew would be unforgivable. And Rebekah thought the four of us staying here in Mystic Falls would help us overcome our differences. But it seems her efforts failed and my brothers have once again become fed up with my personality and have left us." He shrugged, as if it meant nothing to him.

But Caroline knew – the tense cut of his shoulders told her everything she needed to know – it hurt him.

A fierce swell of anger attacked her and left her vision a bloody crimson red. From the conversations she had held with Rebekah, she knew her older brother Niklaus was Rebekah's favourite – the only one to show her any affection, as scarce as it may be. Her eldest brother Elijah was a 'wet blanket' – in Rebekah's words – and a stickler for rules that didn't translate to quality family time, his time too engrossed in the flighty actions of his high-strung wife to give a decent thought to his siblings. And Kol was much too preoccupied with the next piece of tail he could catch to be concerned with her or any of their other siblings – a source of deep resentment for the spiteful blonde.

But, despite his abominable lack of respect for boundaries, Caroline had to grudgingly admit that she agreed with Rebekah's assessment of her siblings.

Klaus was definitely her favourite.

And this had nothing to do with the dimples that made blush rush to her cheeks.

 _Not at all._

Caroline sniffed, haughtily. "What a bunch of dicks." She bit out, red splotches of anger drifting across her cheekbones and contouring against the porcelain-white skin.

Klaus couldn't help the low, gravelly laugh that burst from his throat. "Well said, sweetheart." He murmured, affection surging in his heart.

"So, they just left? Just like that?" Caroline asked, her brow furrowing.

A low, hash sound formed in Klaus' throat, in a mockery of a chuckle. "You don't know my siblings, sweetheart." He bit out. "They have the ability to walk out on you _and_ make you feel like a degenerate monster at the same time."

"What did they do?" Caroline asked, quietly, her hand twitching at her side, as she fought the desire to reach out and take his in hers.

Klaus gritted his teeth as the memories of their words once again crawled back into his mind and settled there like a never-ending chant ringing through his head.

 _You lack the ability to experience any true, genuine emotion, Niklaus._

 _What good are you to this family the way you are?_

 _All you have ever done is make us miserable._

 _You will always be alone because that is what you wish. Of course, if the time came when you didn't want to be, I'm sure they would also run away screaming._

 _I pity anyone forced to be at your side for an extended amount of time._

 _Why do you think we trapped in you in the Underworld all those years ago? We knew that if we allowed you to remain on Olympus with all of us, you would only cause us more ruin._

 _Rebekah – the only person that continues to see someone worthy in you for some reason – will soon realise that you are beyond any redemption or absolution. She will turn her back on you as we have done and you will truly be alone because that is what you deserve._

"Oh, the usual," Klaus' voice was razor-sharp and sent shudders racing down Caroline's spine. "I am the cause of their misery because I am such a horrible person that I destroy people as I come into contact with them. And because I am such a horrible person, I am and will always be alone because no one would dream of staying with me, lest I turn them to into reprobate as well. And my sweet little sister, Rebekah, will soon see the error of her ways in caring from me – because I am so devoid of returning those feelings – and run away at first chance in fear of me destroying her as I did them and I deserve nothing less because I am said horrible monster."

His voice was dry and mocking and careless but Caroline, much to her sorrow, could see every shard of pain slice into him and leave him bloody and bruised and broken with each single sentiment he spoke aloud.

Caroline scoffed, her nails digging into her palms with suppressed anger, as she imagined _smacking the crap out of those two assholes that Klaus and Rebekah were forced to call brothers_. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of." She snapped. "A blind person could see that Rebekah thinks that you hang the sun and the moon, for fuck's sake. Seriously, she never shuts up about her sweet artist big brother Klaus. It's actually quite irritating to have to listen to go on and on about you." She crossed her arms over her chest and sank back into the armchair, her eyes challenging him to disagree with her. "If she wasn't half in love with Matt, I'd be worried you guys had some weird Cersei-Jamie-esque relationship going on." She waved off.

A boyish grin spread across his face, dimples tugging at her heartstrings until she found herself melting under his soft gaze.

 _Fuck, he has the prettiest eyes. I always was a sucker for blue-blue eyes._

"You don't even know me." Klaus pointed out. "How are you so certain that I am not the miserable wretch my brothers seem so sure I am?"

Caroline shrugged. "I don't." She said, simply. "But Rebekah loves you." She said, pointedly. "And she's _my_ best friend. That means she has extremely good taste." She smirked. "So, if she loves you, there must be something in you that's worth loving."

"Perhaps my sister is good at fooling herself into seeing that which is not there." Klaus said, solemnly.

"Okay, I agreed to listen to all your crap because I thought you needed a friend. I didn't, however, sign up for a pity party and my brand of therapy doesn't run that way." Caroline snapped. Her voice softened. "Look, your brothers sound like jackasses. And I'm sure you know that because you've had to deal with their asshole-selves your entire life. So, why are you letting their opinion affect you and making you second-guess yourself, like it means something? Only one person can tell you what to think and how to look at yourself and that person is you. So stop worrying about what _they_ said and what _they_ think, and focus on what you do know about yourself. You know Rebekah loves you, right? Hold onto that. It means you're not all-bad, right? Your sister isn't the type of chick to waste her time on lost causes. In fact, she has an alarming lack of tolerance for them. That obviously means that she sees you as someone worth her time and love. So, stop putting yourself down because your brothers have some crooked, narrow-minded, self-righteous view of you that they obviously came up with because they're too insecure and guilty to place some of the blame for all your crap on themselves."

Then, she did something that made his eyes widen.

She reached over a smacked him on the arm in chastisement, in an unprecedented action, that made him swallow hard and shift uneasily, as that familiar lightness in his ribs returned.

"Caroline…" Klaus trailed off, at a loss for words for the first time in his long life. But, to be fair, he was experiencing many firsts in the presence of the woman in front of him. "Your words… I…" He licked his lips. "Thank you for saying them to me. I have spent so many years with my family's negativity and constant criticism, I had forgotten what it felt like to have light and hope and optimism in my life. So, thank you." He murmured, flashing her a quick, warm smile.

"You're welcome." Caroline said, softly, sending him a sunshine grin that made his toes curl and a sudden, giddy feeling rush over him –

– as if he could do anything – climb mountains and slay monsters – if he just had that smile in his life.

Klaus cleared his throat, his voice thick with emotion.

"I apologise, I'm being an abominable host. Would you like something to drink?" Klaus offered.

Caroline snickered. "One, I'm underage – but something tells me you don't really care about that. And two, I think you've had enough to drink for one day. Maybe we should just stick to juice. Or water." She grinned. She jumped to her feet. "Tell me where it is because I don't want to risk you falling over and breaking something. Cause there's no way in hell I could carry you out to my car."

With that final admonishment, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and strode right past him, without care and without shame, into the kitchen, leaving him to wonder after the girl who had surprised him yet again.

* * *

The next day, when Caroline woke up, she found a small, velvet-lined box sitting on her doorsill. She slid out of bed, rubbing her eyes and padded over to the window, brushing back the curtains and allowing shards of light to spill into the room. She yawned a little, and slid open the window, her hand reaching out and sweeping the box into her room before it could fall off its precarious place.

She shut the window behind and moved back over to the bed, taking a careful seat on the mattress and placing the box in front of her. She carefully undid the ribbon, not wanting to rip the delicate ribbon, and rolled it into a ball and placed in the drawer in her bedside chest. With slightly trembling fingers, she unclasped the box and lifted it open, her breath catching in her throat as she saw what was inside.

Inside was a relatively thin diamond bracelet, with links done intricately in bow shapes along the length of the chain. Caroline swallowed hard, her throat suddenly parch. She took a deep breath and carefully lifted the bracelet out of the jewellery box between her index finger and thumb.

The knuckles of her other hand brushed against the carefully cut stones and she watched in awe as the diamonds glinted in the sunlight. She looked down at the bedspread and her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she spotted a scroll of parchment hovering under the padding in the empty box.

She lifted it up to her gaze and her fingers unrolled it, her nails scraping against the paper, her thumb brushing against the corners.

It was her. In his eyes, sitting opposite to him on the couch, yesterday afternoon.

The curve of her shoulder. The brightness of her eyes. The contour of her collarbone. The perfect twist to her blonde waves. The flush to her cheeks. The arch of her mouth.

All in lines of charcoal that had her heart stammering in her ribcage.

And a message at the bottom.

 _Thank you for being there._

 _Klaus._

The corner of her mouth twitched and shocked, hoarse laugh built up in her throat. She carefully rolled up the parchment and placed it back inside the velvet-lined box, before snapping it shut. Her hand smacked against her bedside table until she could open the drawer, carefully placing the black velvet box into a small chest that held more of her more precious mementos and closing the drawer shut, before focusing on the bracelet that still laid in the upturned palm of her hand.

She dragged her free hand over face, washing over the remaining weariness. Her fingers traced over the delicate links to the bracelet, as her mind raced a minute.

 _If I put this on, then it'll look like I want him. But to be fair, I'm attracted to him, that's obvious. I mean, look at him. Blonde curls and blue eyes and stubble that makes him look all rugged and manly and handsome and all he does is make my ovaries dance. He's obviously attracted to me because no one shells out this kind of cash for a diamond bracelet for someone they're not interested in. But is this something I really want to start? And he's Rebekah's brother. This'll be awkward and I don't want to step on Rebekah's toes. Maybe I should talk to her first?_

Caroline licked her dry mouth.

"It couldn't hurt to wear the bracelet, right?" She muttered to herself, half-heartedly.

With trembling hands, she carefully clasped the bracelet around her wrist, marvelling at the perfect fit, and frowning when a shock ran up her arm, wincing at the brief pain before shaking her head, chalking it up to static that clung against her skin.

She ran her fingers over the bracelet for a brief moment, propping her wrist up against her breastbone and looking down on it, twisting it in every which way and admiring the way her wrist caught the sunlight as the diamonds glistened.

 _Not bad. Not bad at all._ She thought, proudly.

Of course, what she didn't realise was the way the bracelet thrummed, unperceived by her skin, the second she took her eyes off it, streaks of gleaming, white light shining, strangely, through the stones.

* * *

It was a few weeks after drunken therapy time – Caroline's words, not his – and his gifting of the bracelet that Klaus finally asked her out on a date – although he found himself grimacing at the lengths he was forced to go to have her the way he wanted her. But he couldn't help himself. He hadn't been able to rip the bubby, thoughtful blonde out of his veins since the day where she had listened to his problems without a speck of judgment that day.

And if he had to wine and dine her to get enough of a measure of affection from her that he could steal her away with no guilt, then he could definitely do that.

Caroline – just to make sure she wasn't overstepping any boundaries – checked with Rebekah before she gave Klaus the _yes_. Needless to say, the other blonde was ecstatic that her two favourite people in the world were finally realising their boundless sexual tension and doing something about and in her words _before I turned the bloody hose on you both_ , _or, if I was feeling particularly nice, doing us all a favour and locking you both in a room until you shagged the bloody tension out._

But other than that original hiccup, their first date went better than either of them were expecting. Klaus was charming and Caroline was witty and it went seamlessly. The dinner was good. The wine was good. He walked her to her door and his lips brushed her cheek in a kiss that had her desperately wanting to grab him by the scruff of his shirt and maul his mouth – _only if he was okay with that, of course_.

And the first date turned into a second, and a third, and a fourth and it went on and on and on until Caroline felt like she was on a perpetual high constantly. She felt like she was walking on clouds and a giddy smile would form on her face whenever she was near him. They hadn't had sex yet, but Caroline was completely okay with that – even if it was out of her comfort zone – and she was attributing that to her desire for mystery in the relationship.

And all the while, Caroline never seemed to notice the way the bracelet hummed, lowly and inconspicuously, whenever she was in Klaus' presence. But Klaus did and he hid his pleased smile under a veneer of genuine charm and affection that never failed to fool Caroline.

Until the day she caught him in the act.

* * *

Caroline's back slammed against the door.

 _Nowhere else to fucking go. Fuck._

Her stomach caved in on itself from the force of the blow.

" _Stay_ away from me." She stammered, her hands trembling at her side.

Klaus sighed and approached her, cautiously, much like one would a skittish animal. "Caroline, I understand that you're scared, but I need you to remain calm and _listen to me_." He said, grimly.

"Listen to you?" Caroline hissed, incredulously. "I just witnessed my boyfriend of like six months – the guy that I'm in love with – perform some creepy satanic ritual with like ten dead bodies in that room and then he proceeds to confess the fact that he's really the King of the Underworld and you want me to remain _calm_?" She snapped.

Klaus rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. "Well, when you put it like that, it does look bad, doesn't it?"

"Oh, you think?" Caroline said, sarcastically. Her eyes widened and she turned around, her fingers gripping and twisting in her hair. "Oh, my god. Oh, my God." She breathed. "You're the King of the fucking Underworld and I called you Drunky McDrunkerson." She said, horrified.

"I thought it was cute." Klaus offered, helpfully.

Caroline rounded on him. "Not exactly helping your situation." She spat. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Let's think about this rationally for a moment." She said, weakly, her head spinning. She squared her shoulders and lifted her gaze to meet his, boldly. "Explain what happened in there."

Klaus shrugged. "I was merely increasing my domain as I usually do."

Caroline frowned. "What do you mean 'increasing your domain'?" She asked, carefully, making sure to keep a safe distance between herself and the man she had thought would become her forever.

"I was…" Klaus shuffled on his feet, awkwardly, his eyes shifting from side to side, unable to express himself in a way that would make everything okay between them –

– he gritted his teeth – he would _not_ lose her.

"I was harvesting souls." Klaus bit out. "Those bodies were the recently dead and I was ensuring their safe passage into the Underworld."

Caroline licked her lips, staring at him like she wanted to believe him more than anything in the world. "You didn't kill them?" She asked, quietly, her voice small and so unlike Caroline that it made Klaus' heart clench in pain –

– pain that _he_ had been the one to do this to her.

Klaus shook his head. " _No_ , no, Caroline." He said, firmly. "I won't deny that I have caused death to numerous people. But everything I have done, I have done to ensure that the balance of nature is kept in check." He looked at her, earnestly. "I'm not a monster."

Caroline stared at him, hope and trust and faith brimming in her chest, as she wrapped her arms around herself in a vain attempt to protect herself from any other truths from him that would rock her back on her feet. Her eyes were fixed on his, aquamarine boring holes into cornflower-blue, as she searched his face, desperately, for any sign of dishonesty or faithlessness.

She _wanted_ to believe him. She really did. He had reached into her ribcage and stolen her heart and she _loved_ him, despite everything.

" _Please, Caroline_." Klaus took a step further, his words a plea.

But she needed one last answer.

"And me?" Caroline was ashamed to realize that her voice trembled. Dread settled in her stomach and churned, uncomfortably, making her sick to her stomach. "What am I to you, Klaus? Am I just some fun for you while you do all your creepy Underworld errands here on Earth?" Her voice lowered. "Have you just been screwing with me this entire time?" She whispered, shards of pain cutting deeply into heart muscle with the fear echoing in her words.

What would she do if he said _yes_?

She would lock her heart up and shut it beyond repair and never dare to have the same feelings for anyone else that she had for him.

"No, _no_ , of course not, Caroline." Klaus shook his head, crowding into her so that her back was pressed against the door and he was close enough that she could smell traces of his scent on his skin – cologne and brisk aftershave and an undercurrent of metal. "You… _you are everything_." He swore. "In all my existence, I have never needed. _But I need you_. I cannot explain it." He chuckled, harshly. "In fact, I tried to deny it to myself more than once." Caroline flinched and his fingers stroked her cheek, reverently. "Not because I felt you were unworthy, but because I was scared for what it meant to need you. But I do. I need you. And I won't let you go now that I have you. You are mine." He swore, and it was as if a brand was placed on her skin.

Dread and fear and pain dissolved and was instead replaced with anger, coiling and burning in her stomach.

"You mean like you own me?" Caroline hissed in outrage. "Because if you think I'm about to let you _claim_ me in some weird, mythological slavery thing, then you're insane _and_ delusional."

"No," Klaus shook his head. "Not slavery. But I _am_ claiming you. You _are_ mine. That is not something you can walk away from. And you already agreed."

A ghost of a smirk appeared on his face and Caroline wanted nothing more than to smack it off.

"What the hell do you mean 'I agreed'?" Caroline shrieked. "I didn't agree to-"

She stopped in the middle of her sentence.

Her face fell and Klaus' jaw tightened, as he realised that she had understood what _exactly_ he had meant by his comment, a brief spark of pride in her intelligence snapping to life before dissolving.

"The bracelet." Her eyes dawned with realisation. "You did something to it. What did you do?"

Klaus' lip curled. "I had a witch place a spell on it. The moment you placed it on that beautiful wrist of yours, you became mine." He said, dismissively, as if he hadn't stolen away her free will in a single moment.

"Remove it. _Remove it now_." Caroline snapped, advancing on him.

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Now why would I do something like that? That bracelet around your wrist – which you can't take off by the way – in effect promises you to me till the end of time. Disregarding your obvious mortality, of course. But I've been assured that there is a simple fix to that."

His eyes were ruthless and Caroline's breath caught in her throat, her stomach twisting.

"I don't _want_ this." Caroline said, quickly.

Klaus scowled, her rejection smacking him in the face and only stoking the slow burn of anger rushing through him. "How quickly your _feelings_ for me change. I thought you _loved_ me." He said, mockingly.

Caroline gritted her teeth. " _Don't_ joke about what I feel for you. I don't want _this_ , Klaus. I don't want what you forced on me. All you had to do was be fucking honest with me right from the beginning and I _might_ have been okay with it. But now? You just _ruined_ everything? There's no way in hell I want to spend even a single moment longer with you, let alone an entire eternity." She spat out.

Klaus clenched his teeth until a muscle broke in his jaw from the strain he was placing on it.

"I am very sorry to hear that, love." He said, lightly, although his voice was tinged with fury and dangerous promise. "But, your reluctance doesn't quite change my decision on the matter."

Caroline took a step back, her blood turning to pure ice as she took in the resolution in his eyes.

"Klaus, don't do anything stupid." Caroline stammered, visibly trembling as she plastered herself against the door, with no viable option from escape.

He advanced upon her.

His eyes turned a shocking amber, Caroline's heart stopping in her chest as she saw the blackened veins rising to the surface under his eyelids, sharp, pointed fangs bearing down, his teeth bared in a snarl. He raised his wrist to his mouth and fangs tore into skin, making Caroline shriek with surprise, as blood pooled on the wound. In a split second, he was right in front of her, shoving his sliced wrist into her mouth and making her choke on the blood rushing down her throat despite her weak struggles in his embrace. When he pulled his wrist away, she gasped for air and sobbed, tears mixing with the remnants of blood still clinging to her mouth.

"What did you do?" Caroline choked out. "What _the fuck_ did you do to me?" She snapped.

"I am very sorry for this, Caroline. But one day, my love, you _will_ forgive me." Klaus crooned, his fingers sliding through her blonde waves to cup the back of her skull, tenderly.

A sharp twist of his wrist and a loud snap rang through the air, Caroline's head hanging at an awkward angle as he clutched her limp body to his chest.

His head tilted downwards and he brushed a sweet kiss on the crown of her head, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her over to the couch, where he would wait until she woke up.

The witch had been clear. She must drink his blood and die while it still in her system and she would be born as a creature of the Underworld like him. The only way to ensure her continued existence at his side for the rest of eternity, without her mortality becoming an obstacle.

She _would_ forgive him for what he had been forced to do. One day.

She loved him and he had unwittingly given his heart – everything that he was – to her in return.

She would bring light brimming at her fingertips.

Hells' pour souls would kneel at their feet, promising them everything and anything for an escape.

And she would sit beside him on his throne of the dead.


	6. in life, the monsters win (Klaroline)

**in life, the monsters win**

 _Okay, so this is for Lenna (AKA lynyrdwrites/Lynyrd Lionheart) because I totally misunderstood what she meant when she said she wanted a Caroline Stark AU for Klaroline AU week. But the good thing is, she likes Game of Thrones too. So, all's good and hope you guys enjoy! Fair warning, some of the lines from this drabble are from Game of Thrones and A Storm of Swords. Thank you so much to my Skype girls (you know who you are – Dee, Megan, Jo, Sarah) for putting up with my stupidly pedantic questions!_

 _As a side note, I don't own anything in this drabble that forms a part of the A Song of Ice and Fire universe. That all belongs to George R. R. Martin._

* * *

Red.

 _Mikaelson_ red, Caroline thought with disgust, staring at the gown that hung from post above her bed. She squinted, kneeling quite unceremoniously, in front of it, and realised with outrage and contempt that swirling around the hem of the dress, was a garish depiction of a lion _eating_ a wolf.

It marked her as one of them.

A _Mikaelson_.

She hated it.

She hated the Queen.

She hated her spiteful, sadistic son, the King.

She hated the Hand of the King, a solemn, scheming, intimidating man that looked down upon everyone as if they were worth nothing more that the sludge that trickled to the bottom of Blackwater Bay.

She even hated the reprobate, derelict brother that she had barely spoken to – the one that would drape a Mikaelson cloak over her shoulders today at the Sept.

She hated all of them.

She dreamt of it sometimes, how it would feel to just take the knife off the table at dinner and stab the royal mongrel in the hand, whether he would scream or cry. In any case, she would be happy. Oh, she smiled and she simpered and coyly fluttered her eyelashes and she called Kai her 'one true love' and her King, but in her head, she was thinking _one day, I'm going to take this knife and put it through your eye and out the back of your skull, you cunt_. Whether she meant Kai, who chopped her father's head off, or Freya, who took advantage of her naivety and her admiration for the Southern queen and her childish desire for a song in her life to trick her and turn her against her own blood, or Mikael, who had her mother and brother murdered in cold blood at a wedding, she didn't know. But she was sure it applied to all of them.

The red silk of the hem slipped out of her fingers just as quickly as she picked up the hem. The gold-plated corset and the metal lion engraved in great detail mocked her, making her lips twist in disdain.

She was no lion.

She was a wolf.

She was Caroline Forbes, a wolf of the North. Her brother – dear, sweet Stefan – was a King and he would come and save her. Like the games they used to play as a child, she was always the damsel in the tower and him and Enzo – the brother she was never quite as good at loving – her knights in the song she wove for herself.

Like when Mason rode down south to save Jenna from the evil dragons.

 _But he burned for it_ , Caroline thought, morosely. _I won't have Stefan die for me_. _Even if I have to bear the touches of the bastard lion._

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling at her side.

 _A wolf from the North. I am a wolf from the North._

"Camille, I need you in here." Caroline called out, her voice firm and unwavering.

Camille entered the room, her normally kind, expressive face disgruntled for no apparent reason once her eyes passed over the wedding dress that hung from the top of Caroline's bed.

"Yes, milady?" Camille mumbled, her head cast down.

Caroline sighed. "Help me put this dratted thing on," She gestured to the dress. "Wouldn't want to insult my soon-to-be husband, my one true love." She said, coldly, her lip curling with disgust at the mere thought.

Camille faltered at her words, but continued to pull down the dress from the post that hung over the bed, placing the rich red cloth and spreading it over the bed.

"Would you prefer to have the dress on first, or shall I do your hair, milady?" Camille asked her.

"I'll have the dress on first." Caroline snorted after a moment. "What do I care whether it is ruined or not?" She muttered.

Camille paused, awkwardly, unsure of what to say in the face of Caroline's bitterness. "It is a lovely dress, milady." She pointed out.

"A lovely dress?" Caroline said, scathingly. "It is a chain, with which Freya will lead to me to the altar in the sept and give me to yet another Mikaelson responsible for murdering my family, just so Mikael can have his foothold in the North if, by chance, they manage to kill Stefan, and so Kai can be rest assured that his favourite toy is still in his vicinity once he marries the Lady Davina." She sank her teeth into her lower lip. "The dress is my undoing."

"But has Lord Niklaus not been kind to you?" Camille asked, quietly, moving over to stand behind Caroline once she had taken her place in front of the mirror.

Caroline's lips pursed. She thought of the day when Kai had his Kingsguard stooges beat her in front of the court, rip her dress to the waist and bare her flesh to the entire assembly, the honour of his wife-to-be besmirched by his own hand. The tears were wet on her cheeks, pain brimming from her bruised stomach and knees where she had already been hit, and Ser Julian stood above her, white cloak, golden armour looming above her, the hilt of his sword poised to strike, when the doors to the throne room and stormed open, and Niklaus Mikaelson had strode in, his face etched with anger – _in her name,_ she had thought with wonder –, accompanied by his sword sword, Marcellus.

Dark, spitting words had been directed at Julian, who had slunk away with a sneer, and he had climbed up the stairs in the throne room until he was barely a breadth away from where Kai stood, crossbow hanging limply at his side while the boy looked everywhere but his furious uncle's blue eyes, an awkward, yet frustrated and resentful look on his face. When Niklaus had shoved him back against his throne and snatched the crossbow from the boy King, Kai had looked up at him and opened his mouth, obviously to shout or rage at the injustice of a King – no matter how green he was – being told what to do by his illegitimate half-uncle – only a Mikaelson by the grace of his grandfather, or so he thought – no one was quite sure exactly what had happened between Mikael and Esther Mikaelson upon the revelation of Niklaus' true parentage, but many a rumour had made its way across the lands – but all Niklaus had to do was look at the boy with a sharp, unforgiving look in his eyes and his tongue was falling silent, sinking back against the Iron Throne, wincing when sharp iron blades dug into his skin and drew blood.

He then turned to Tyler Lockwood, who Kai affectionately called 'Dog', the King's bodyguard and servant, and ordered him to wrap his white cloak around Caroline's shivering, humiliated, practically topless form. Lockwood, whose face was blank and cold, stepped down from the King's side and draped his large cloak over Caroline's shoulders, practically swathing her in the white. Tears wetted her cheeks and she looked up, Niklaus' apologetic blue eyes staring down at her, a hand upturned mere inches away from her face. She schooled her face into a mask she inwardly commended herself for, and took his hand, allowing her to raise her to her feet, tightening the cloak around her even though her honour and her modesty lay in tatters around her. She curled her hand around his forearm, nails scratching against his red doublet, as they walked through the throngs of people, the Court scattering to make way for them, and he led her to the door.

His kind words had her stomach clenching with equal measures of hope and suspicion: "Do you want an end to this engagement?"

She had turned to him with a questioning look.

"I am to be King Malachai's loyal and loving wife, my one true love, my lord, why would I ever want to leave?" Her query was unassuming and seemingly genuinely confused, but her words were dead, mirroring what she felt instead.

Niklaus's lips quirked up at the corners. "Caroline Forbes, I believe you may just survive us yet." His voice was awed and proud.

Whether he knew she had heard his parting words, she didn't know. But they filled her with a strange sort of warmth. A warmth that she carried with her to this day, amidst beatings and jeers and cold insults and the memory of her father's head dropping to the floor on the Sept of Baelor in front of hundreds of people who _hated_ a man they had never even spoken to and the warm, wet blood splattering on her dress and all she could see was _black and death and pain and when she woke up, her father's head was on a spike and Kai was laughing_.

She had dreamt of his blue eyes and not-smile for nights after the incident in the throne room.

And now she was to be his wife.

But anything would be better than marrying Kai.

She would suffer the bastard rutting between her thighs a hundred times over if it meant that she wouldn't have to let Kai inside her, where he could finally come through on all of his depraved promises.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, the neatly embroidered wolf on the grey brocade of her dress catching her attention.

After today, she would no longer be a wolf. She would be a lion.

The same as the monsters who had taken her beloved father away from her, and forced her to live as a prisoner in the walls of the Red Keep, so that they may torture her when they please.

"How would you like your hair, milady?" Camille asked, quietly, snapping her out of her contemplation.

"Down. Leave it down."

 _I have played Freya's fool too long._ She thought, coldly. _If I have to surrender to the Mikaelsons today, I will do it as a Forbes and not as one of these Southern idiots._

"Very well, milady."

The rest of the preparation passed by in a daze, Caroline sucking in a breath when Camille tightened the clasps of the armoured dress around her, the metalwork on the bodice leaving her cold and hurting. The sleeves were wide and billowing and dropped straight to her knees, Caroline having to roll up the rich red fabric to stare at her wrists. Once Camille had finished tying up the laces at the back and settled a cold golden necklace sharply and tightly around her neck – _like a collar_ , she thought, a sick feeling churning in her stomach, Caroline stared at herself in the mirror, her eyes unable to be drawn away from the lion engraved on the tip of the metal corset, and another one on the necklace Niklaus had so _kindly_ given her to wear with the dress.

She did look _nice_ , she admitted, grudgingly.

There was a knock on the door and she turned, dread sinking into her stomach. Camille looked at her, hesitantly, waiting for her nod of acquiescence, before walking over to the door and carefully opening it. Kai stood in the doorway, a particularly thrilled smirk on his handsome face.

"Ah, Caroline, good. You're ready." Kai's eyes roved over her and Caroline shifted, uncomfortably, disliking the way his eyes turned on the way her dress dipped in front of her cleavage and the curve of her waist. "Well, it's time to go. Mustn't keep my uncle waiting." His eyes glinted with amusement at a joke that could only be humorous to him.

Inwardly, Caroline was imagining what it would be like to bash him over the head with nearest blunt object and watch him wither on the ground in pain.

But, as she was the perfect prisoner, she nodded, lifting the skirts of her dress, before proceeding out of the door, Kai nattering at her side with more sadistic musings about her suffering.

Once they stood in the archway to the sept, Kai held out his arm, expectantly.

Caroline stared at it with distaste.

"What are you _doing_?" She asked, confused and disgust and shock-awed.

"Your father's dead, girl, remember?" Kai said, cheerfully. "As the father of the realm, and as you are my ward, it is my duty to give you away to your new husband."

She buried down the fury, swiftly, before she did anything foolish – like kill him – and let him lead her down the steps of the sept and through the path between the throngs of court, her heart clenching with every step she took towards the altar. Marcellus, her soon-to-be husband's sworn sword nodded at her, comfortingly, and she graced him with a small smile.

It was then that she mustered up the courage to stare at the solemn figure that stood next to the Septon on the highest step of the altar.

His face was turned to the side, not giving her much of a view of his face. She had seen him before, of course, but she knew that the sight of him standing, stoically, at the altar, the cascades of a red cloak, emblazoned with a lion in gold stitching, draped over one arm, would be etched into her memory for the rest of her life.

Kai led her to the altar and dropped her beside Niklaus, before sending his uncle a triumphant gleeful smile, to which Niklaus gave a withering, warning look that wiped the smile off Kai's face, much to Caroline's pleasure.

Once she was standing beside him, both their heads turned towards the Septon in front of them, their arms practically touching, an agonising, painful breath twisted out of her in resignation.

Kai stepped up behind her, Caroline cringing at his proximity, and, with a flourish, swept aside her maiden's cloak of grey – _her father's colours_ – as if he really were Lord Zachary Forbes. Her teeth gritted in fury and resentment as his hands brushed a breast and left a lingering squeeze. From the corner of her eye, she could see her soon-to-be husband's jaw tighten with matching rage at the King's presumptuous gesture – on her wedding day, nonetheless.

"You may now cloak the bride with your protection."

Niklaus nodded at the Septon, stiffly, before turning towards her.

Caroline turned her body to the side, with a swish of her skirts across the marble floor.

She took in a deep breath.

And then he draped his red Mikaelson cloak over her stiff shoulders.

And Caroline released the breath she was holding.

It was done.

She turned to face the Septon once again, her posture mirrored by her husband, her face paler than it had been prior to the cloak on her shoulders.

The Septon looked over their shoulders at the crowd at the bottom of the steps.

"Your Graces, my lord," He nodded at Kai, Freya and Mikael, before turning glazed eyes over the mass of people. "My lords and ladies, we stand here, in the eyes of gods and men, to witness the union between man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul-"

Caroline supposed that the words would have been romantic in any other setting – in fact, the old Caroline, the one whose father was still alive, would have thought them to be the sweetest thing to hear, maybe as a precursor to the union between her and her one, true love, Kai –, but the Septon's monotone and her vivid awareness of the man standing beside her, all she could feel was the sick churning in her stomach.

Caroline's hand slid up of its own accord, already knowing what was about to happen. There was a brief moment before Niklaus' hand settled on top of hers, his palm warm and steady and somewhat comforting. The Septon threaded a red silk ribbon around their joined hands.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The Septon motioned for them to face each other, once he had unraveled the ribbon that bound their hands together. "Look upon each other and say the words."

Caroline licked her lips, nervously.

Niklaus' lips quirked up at the corners.

"Father, Smith, Warrior. Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger."

"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

"I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband".

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife."

With a confident step forwards, Niklaus leaned into her, cupping her jaw with one hand, and kissed her hard, much to her surprise. His mouth was soft and warm, but firm with promise and she felt a stirring low in her belly, a flush rising up her neck. She felt his answering smile against her lips at her reaction, and she pulled away, self-consciously, smoothing down her skirts before anyone could think her less than proper.

"Let it be known that Caroline of House Forbes and Niklaus of House Mikaelson are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

When she turned around with him to face the rest of the congregation, as they clapped and cheered as if this was the best occasion of their lives, she smiled as if she really were a blushing bride, who loved her new husband more than anything and everything. Only the quivering of her mouth alerted anyone to the fear that had seeped into her bones.

 _They shall never let me go_. She realised, dully.

This was the end of her life.

They had even taken the name Forbes from her.

She was a Mikaelson – a lion, now.

"You look _glorious_ , my lady." Klaus hummed in her ear, bringing her out of her haze and making her shiver – although, not in disgust, much to her surprise. "I was correct; you surpass my sister in every way." He chuckled.

Caroline flickered a smile, but not to his face.

When she saw the eager looks on those waiting at the foot of the altar, she almost felt like she could faint as the anxiety returned to her in a wave.

" _Breathe_ , wife," He murmured, his hand steady on her arm, as he led her down the steps of the altar. "And drink some wine as soon as possible. You'll need it to get through _this_." He said, dryly.

She turned to look at him, sharply, with a raised eyebrow, seeing only amusement flickering on his face.

Niklaus Mikaelson – _her husband_ – was a tall, strong man with blonde curls groomed closed to his skull, cornflower-blue eyes and a hint of dishevelled stubble across his jaw, which she briefly wondered whether would hurt her or cause a pleasing touch.

 _He is a handsome man_ , Caroline thought, reluctantly. It would not be a great suffering to let him between her thighs.

"You look very handsome, my lord." Caroline said, quietly, wanting to say anything that would make this interlude between them less awkward.

Niklaus' lips twitched in amusement as he looked down at his own red doublet and breeches. "Ah, yes, the husband of your dreams." He said, sarcastically.

"More like my nightmares." Caroline muttered under her breath, and then turned to look at him with wide eyes and a shaking head, apologies spilling in hushed murmurs from her lips. "Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean to- I'm afraid the nerves have gotten to me- please accept my sincere apologies-"

"Peace, Caroline," Niklaus squeezed the hand that was tucked into his elbow. "If you pretended to be one of those grating, simpering hens from court, I'd be rather displeased. You should be able to say what you please to me. You've more than earned _that_ right. Not that you should have to earn any rights with me." He said, darkly.

Caroline touched his arm with more concern that she thought she had in her.

He patted her hand, comfortingly. "Nothing to worry about, wife. Shall we attend the feast now?"

On their across the Sept, Freya's eyes met Niklaus' and they conveyed an extent of hatred and heartless glee that Caroline had only ever seen in the Queen's eyes in relation to her.

"My lord?" Caroline asked, carefully.

There was a bitter smile on Niklaus' face. "Freya always felt as thought she shouldn't have to suffer the indignity of having a bastard half-brother, let alone one raised beside her, as if we were equals. It is an indignity that she cannot and absolutely refuses to bear."

Caroline's brow furrowed.

Niklaus' smile turned sharp. "I suppose it doesn't matter. I am my mother's bastard and it seems my sister has followed in her illustrious footsteps." He said, mockingly.

Caroline didn't know what to say to that. Perhaps the Mikaelson family weren't as golden as they wanted to be.

The wedding feast went by like a dream – a nightmare – until Henrik, with all the grace of a ten-year-old, was leading her around the dance floor with a determined look on his face as he stared at their feet, Caroline watching with amusement and fondness for the kind little prince – _nothing like his mother or brother_ , she thought. Caroline felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on their ends when Kai appeared out of nowhere, behind his little brother.

"Go away, Henrik." Kai ordered. "I think I'd like to have my dance with our new aunt." His smile positively sickened her.

Caroline stiffened when his arm wrapped around her waist and he brought her close.

"Dear, sweet Caroline, you shouldn't look so sad." He said, mockingly. "It's your wedding day. And you should muster all your strength for the night to come." He waggled his eyebrows. "My uncle is lowborn and crass, but I've heard he is an excellent lover. Very much capable of breaking your maidenhead and pleasing you. And if he doesn't, you'll still have me."

"You are to marry Davina." Caroline said through gritted teeth.

"I am." Kai agreed. "But who says that I can't have you as my whore." Caroline's face went red. "I would not be the first King to do so. My father had whores. And one of the Petrovas had a lot of whores. A lot of whores and a lot of bastards." He dipped his head down and gave her a wet kiss where not hours ago, his uncle had treated her so gently and kissed her so sweetly. "This is a dream come true for you, isn't it? A Mikaelson husband, a Mikaelson baby in the future. Of course, what should it matter if the Mikaelson baby soon to be in your belly is from this Mikaelson or another? Would you like me to visit you tonight after my uncle has had his fill of you, darling?" He asked, kindly.

Caroline squared her shoulders, but kept her mouth shut.

"You wouldn't?" A pout formed along Kai's face. "Don't worry," He said, dismissively. "I'm sure you'll be more amenable to the idea once Ser Julian is holding you down."

With that, he pulled away from her and clapped his hands, briskly, drawing the attention of everyone, especially his uncle's suspicious eyes, who had caught sight of the way his new wife's hands had shaken once his nephew had taken her into his arms.

"Everyone!" He called out, cheerfully. "Time for the bedding ceremony.

Niklaus' fingers lingered on the hilt of the sword at his hip, from where he sat at the head table. He hadn't moved from there all night. "There will be no bedding." He said, coldly, staring at his nephew with hard, fierce eyes.

Kai scoffed. "You have no respect for tradition, uncle." He turned to the guests, leading Caroline to the centre of the room, unwillingly, by the hand. "Come, everyone, carry her off!" He gestured to her gown. "Get the gown off her, let's see what the she-wolf bride has to offer my uncle."

"There will be no bedding ceremony." Niklaus repeated, quietly.

"There will be, if I command it." Kai retorted.

A knife twisted in Niklaus' hand and with a graceful flick of his wrist, he slammed it into the table top, much to Caroline's surprise and admiration.

" _I said_ ," Niklaus growled, lowly, his eyes flashing, looking more like the wolf Caroline claimed to be. " _There will be no bedding_." He slid to his feet, a prowling lion once again, all sleek and sure of himself, brimming with power that had Caroline biting her lip as desire surged through her. "If you continue this, I'll geld you. I swear it."

No-one spoke. The whole hall was silent.

His words were a promise and Caroline witnessed a flicker of fear on Kai's face, something which she took great delight in.

"What did you _say_?" Kai shrieked, storming up to the table.

Niklaus leaned over. "You _heard_ me." He hissed.

Mikael's voice broke through the tension. "I believe we can dispense with the bedding, Your Grace. I'm sure Niklaus did not mean to threaten the King." He said, pointedly, staring at Niklaus with distaste.

Niklaus paused and his face softened, flickering with amusement. "Forgive me, I misspoke. You see, I'm very protective of this sweet wife you've given me. How many men of my birth can claim to have lain with someone so beautiful and noble? I don't want anyone but me to see her charms." He crooned. He frowned down at his empty wine glass. "I may have also had a bit too much to drink." He shook his head. "Nevertheless, I have a job to do." He walked around the table, taking Caroline's arm. "Come, wife, let's go play come-into-the-castle."

After Niklaus led her through a multitude of corridors until they came to his chamber, Caroline had coiled herself up tight, not only because of the humiliation she had just suffered at her own wedding feast, but the act she would have to suffer through soon enough.

Caroline hesitated before walking inside, and Niklaus shut the door behind her, going straight to the wine cask that sat on his table, downing another glass in one, long gulp.

"Are you sure you need another glass, my lord?" Caroline asked, quietly.

"My name is Niklaus, Caroline." He said, gently. "But I find myself growing tiresome of that one too. Call me Klaus. All the best people in my life do so."

"Klaus." Caroline agreed. "Would you have me undress or would you like to do it yourself?"

Niklaus cocked his head. "My lord Father has commanded me to consummate this marriage." He grimaced.

Caroline nodded, walking over to the table and pouring herself a glass of wine for her nerves. She took a long, deep swig and moved to unfasten the clasps at the back of her armoured corset.

"Stop."

She turned to him, questioningly. "My lord?" Her eyes widened. "Klaus, I mean." She stammered.

"I can't." Niklaus closed his eyes. "I mean, I won't."

"But your father-" Caroline began to protest.

"My father should go fuck _himself_ if he wants someone to be fucked." Niklaus said, witheringly. "I am not a nice man, Caroline. I have done awful, terrible things to many people. But I can be better than a man who forces his wife into bed."

Caroline ducked her head down, unsure of what to say to his unforeseen show of compassion. She was more surprised by the surge of affection she felt towards her new husband.

"And that would be alright?" Caroline whispered. "You are my lord husband, and I have my duty-"

"You have _no_ duty to me, Caroline." Niklaus said, firmly. "My family has done enough to you that it is _I_ that must pay a debt to you now. And a Mikaelson always pays their debts."

Caroline swallowed hard.

"I know what you must think of me, Caroline." Niklaus said, simply, holding his hands out in surrender. "I am the uncle of the boy who has tortured you out of some twisted pleasure. I am a Mikaelson, and in your eyes, that must make a villain. But if you believe something about me regarding our situation, please believe that I did not ask for this. I _would not_ have asked for this."

Caroline bit her lower lip. "I… hope that I have not offended you, my lord. I apologise if I have." She ducked her head down once again.

Niklaus took an uncertain step towards her. "No," He said, heavily. "You have not offended me. Forgive me, my lady. Once again, in an attempt to comfort you considering this frankly callous occasion my father is forcing us to go ahead with, I have managed to upset you." He murmured.

"No-no." Caroline stammered, inwardly cursing herself for sounding so hesitant and childish and _weak_.

What did she care what he thought of her?

Those blue, blue eyes – lovely that they were – that burned with sincerity and intensity did not entirely diminish the pain and humiliation of being forced to marry into the family that had destroyed _hers_.

But they were an unexpected comfort.

"My family has caused you a great deal of pain, Caroline." Niklaus said, solemnly. "We have taken much from you and you have bore a number of atrocities in silence. Marrying me… could not have been something you dreamed of, or even accepted wholeheartedly. But…" He hesitated, wanting her to read the sincerity of his words. "I will _never_ hurt you." He swore. "I give you my word, if you can bring yourself to believe the word of a Mikaelson." He joked, lightly.

Caroline cracked a smile.

"If…" She fidgeted awkwardly. "You have no need of me tonight, my–Klaus, with your leave, I shall bed down for the night."

"You are no longer a prisoner, my lady." Niklaus shook his head. "You are my wife. Although," He smirked. "Some would say that is an entirely different prison on its own." He frowned. "Nonetheless, you can do as you like. I am here to protect you now."

Caroline shifted, awkwardly.

"You are sure, then?" She asked, once more. She didn't quite believe if this was a test or not, whether he wanted to judge her loyalty to him, to the Mikaelsons, to the King. "I have my duty and it is my pleasure to-"

"I will not come to your bed until you call me there, Caroline." Niklaus said, solemnly.

Caroline chewed on her lip. "And if I never call?" She asked, quietly, trepidation sinking into her bones.

She fingered the wolf pendant at her throat for strength.

Niklaus shrugged, such an odd gesture for a man born into such wealth as a Mikaelson from the French Quarter – a golden lion with humility, she would never have thought.

"Then, I shall never come." He said, gently.

That night, both of them slept in the same bed, each to one side. But sometime during the night, Caroline found herself turning around, seeking warmth, and burrowed herself into Niklaus' side, his arm winding around her waist, his lips pressed against her silken hair.


	7. Poison Under Her Skin (Klaroline)

**Poison Under Her Skin**

 _Alright, this is for Lenna (AKA lynyrdwrites/Lynyrd Lionheart) because it was her birthday ages ago, but I had exams so I couldn't do this then. But she requested GOT (which I secretly love doing) and she wanted Oberyn/Lyanna and I couldn't say no to that because Lyanna is bae. Anyway, happy birthday sweetie and hopefully this helps you sleep easy after those million questions from the Tower of Joy scene. As a side note, I don't own anything in this drabble that forms a part of the A Song of Ice and Fire universe. That all belongs to George R. R. Martin.  
_

* * *

The heat sank into her bones and made them liquid.

She grimaced and sluiced the sweat from her neck. _Sweat_. She had never sweat in the open air before. Not until she came to this barren, sand-infested wasteland as some sort of punishment for the mistakes men had made in her name.

She snorted.

 _As if it were my fault_. She thought, scornfully.

She stared out into the Water Gardens, small children playing in the pools, splashing water and laughing as if their hearts were as bright as the sun above them. She supposed that they were. They were Martell children and cousins, their skin as golden as the sun on their sigil. This was their home, Sunspear. It wasn't their fault that it was her prison.

It was a pretty prison, but a prison nonetheless. Sent her as if her mere face could start another rebellion. Was it her fault that Stefan had whisked her away with whispers of a prince who was promised that she would bring into this world or the song of ice and fire, such an apt name for their union? Was it her fault that Tyler – hardly knowing her but for Matthew's wistful memories while they were raised at the Eyrie – had started a war because he couldn't for the life of him believe that she could choose another over his whoring and drinking and she had gone with the Prince willing? Honestly, she still scoffed at the thought. For all of his Targaryen blood and the madness that had been in his father's and so many of his ancestor's eyes, anyone who knew Stefan knew that the man liked nothing more than to play his stupid harp. Of course, his hands had been rough on her body towards the end and there had always been that strange glint in his light eyes whenever he spoke about the child that deliver the world from darkness. The child that he somehow _knew_ would be _his_ son. But her son was _her_ son. She had seen it in his eyes the moment he opened them for the first time, lying in that stupid bed, sheets soaked with blood, strangers gathered around her. His eyes were just like hers, like her brothers' – all of them, _Lorenzo_ , she had thought with a pang. She'd be damned if she'd let the Dragon Prince – _now King_ , unfortunately – ruin her son the way he ruined her.

"You know, your face will stick like that if you keep frowning." A rough voice came from behind her.

A breath blew between her clenched teeth and she turned around, facing the sultry blue eyes of one Niklaus Martell, Prince Elijah's hot-headed younger brother. The one they called the Red Viper, what with his sharp eyes and even sharper spear, often tipped with some poison.

Caroline was never one to forget her courtesies, not with how often her father had drummed it into her.

"Prince Niklaus." She said, swiftly, her knees bending in a curtsy.

Even if all she wanted to do was spit in the Dornishman's face.

When she straightened and look at him, she was surprised to see concern in his eyes. Out of everyone in the godsforsaken desert, he was the last she expected to ever look at her with any sort of kindness. A man who had made no secret of his distaste at having his sister's husband's ex-whore staying in their home. She still didn't understand what he had to be distasteful about. Rebekah Martell still sat pretty with her beautiful children beside her husband, King Stefan of the House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Realm and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. She was Queen now – what with her husband's carefully-crafted coup to get rid of his insane father – _thanks the gods for that_ –, and her children would be kings and queens after her. What was Caroline left with? A prisoner in a kingdom that hated her and torn apart from her son, who would be raised by his father, alongside his brother and sister, after being handed over by her brother who had keep his mouth shut when she was sent to the desert.

"Lady Caroline." Niklaus nodded at the children frolicking in the pools. "Why don't you join them?"

Caroline's lip quirked up at the corners. "I fear my presence would insult them." She said, wryly.

Niklaus snorted. "I doubt that. Dorne is a very different place to King's Landing, my lady. They've seen worse and not batted an eyelash."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but I've seen the way you look at me since I came to Sunspear. I can't imagine their reactions to me would be all that different to yours."

Niklaus shrugged, an abnormally comfortable gesture for a Prince of Dorne. "I won't apologise for finding your residence here in Dorne offensive. More on Stefan's part, than yours, though. Punishing you and punishing Dorne for _his_ sins is distasteful. You clearly don't want to be here and we clearly don't want you to be here. But the King is the King. And what the King wants, the King gets. And we are but his humble subjects. Unfortunately." He muttered under his breath, to which Caroline's lips twitched.

"The King is the King." Caroline intoned, turning her eyes towards the sand pits on the other side of the hedges of the Water Gardens, where soldiers in loose yellow clothing, patterned with black sunbursts, were sparring.

Niklaus followed her gaze to the soldiers, his lip curling with amusement. "Do you fight, my lady?"

Caroline turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "You believe a girl can fight?" She asked, sceptically.

Niklaus smiled. "I believe a girl can do all sorts of things if she puts her mind to it." He said, teasingly, his viper eyes glinting. "And I believe a girl with claws like yours could hack many a man to pieces if she wished."

Caroline laughed, harshly. "Not the ones that count though."

She thought of violet eyes that she had once believed would be her deliverance from an endless life of needlepoint and curtseying and whores in her bed. She thought of the man whom she would rather gut right to the bone than think of with anything remotely resembling affection.

"I asked my brother Lorenzo once to teach me." She said, quietly, her teeth gritting against the grief that welled up inside of her at the mention of her long-dead brother's name. "However, he made it very clear that, while he enjoyed my _wolfsblood_ – as they call it in the North –, swords are a man's domain and I should stick to needlepoint like a good little girl." She bit out.

"A fool, then." Niklaus said, heavily, knowing of which brother she spoke.

Caroline turned to him, her hair twisting in the salted breeze. "You think differently?" She asked, incredulity colouring her tone.

"You don't believe _me_?" Niklaus matched her disbelief.

"All men are the same."

"Yes, I suppose, from your experiences." Niklaus nodded. "However, in Dorne, we do things differently. We treat women _differently_." He stressed.

"Oh, really?" Caroline's amusement belied her tone.

Niklaus frowned. "If you do not wish to learn, I will not bother you." He said, carefully, turning to leave her with her introspection when her quiet voice – he never would have imagined _her_ to have a quiet voice – drew him back.

"No, wait." Caroline licked her lips, dry from the heat that had seeped into her skin. "Teach me."

Her voice was quiet and determined, and he imagined his surprise and approval – grudging respect, Elijah would laugh at him – was clear on his face when he turned around.

Not even his sister, with all of the blood of Nymeria and the Rhoynar running through her veins, had wanted to take up a weapon.

He had believed her words only to be posturing. A weak girl pretending not to be weak.

Perhaps he had misjudged the She-Wolf.

"Why me?" Niklaus asked, curiously. "There are many soldiers that I could ask. Areo Hotah would-"

Caroline shook her head, her pale skin and golden hair distracting him momentarily. _No_. It would not be wise to let Caroline Stark of all women in this world turn his head.

"I've heard many stories about you." She allowed herself to smirk just slightly. "The Red Viper himself teaching me. Well, no one could resist that."

Niklaus studied her carefully, eyes stilling on her unblemished pale skin revealed by the gauzy material of her dress that he supposed bared more flesh than a Northern girl like her could ever be comfortable with. Looking at her now, all golden curls and blue-green eyes and skin like cream, he couldn't imagine her wielding a weapon. She looked as if she were more suited to the life Rebekah had taken as her own. Swaddling babes at her breast, a simple life of love and pleasure. But the steel in the She-Wolf's eyes intrigued him. He wanted to see where that steel would take her. Would she topple under its weight or bear it stronger and better than the fool Westerosi knights he had seen and scorned?

His damnable curiosity was the reason why he found himself in the sand pits, clutching his spear against his back with both hands, staring across at Caroline Stark, whose small hand curled around the hilt of her weapon. _A spear like my own_ , he thought with no little pride and pleasure. _There is no Targaryen in this girl._

If she had intrigued him prior to picking up the spear, he was thoroughly bemused once their spears started smacking into each other. Her face was twisted with concentration, her eyes sharp and narrowed, lips pursed. _But still beautiful_ , he thought, followed by a furious shake of his head. He didn't need to be thinking of her like this.

"Dorne and the Stormlands are determined to call you a whore, the North a victim. I would very much like to know the truth of you." Niklaus said, easily.

Her smile was sharp, like the wolf teeth in her veins. "You want to know whether I went willingly or not." She said, definitively.

Niklaus tilted his head at her in agreement.

"Would it make it easier for you to hate me if I had gone willingly, Your Highness?" Caroline asked, curiously.

Niklaus sighed. "How is it that when you call me 'Your Highness', I feel as though you are insulting me."

Caroline smiled and lunged, her blade clacking with his. "Because I am." She said, sweetly.

Niklaus shook his head, smiling to himself at her teasing. The Wolf Girl had no fear, it seemed.

He pulled away, stepping back as she swung the spear at him, erratically. "You're leaving too much room for me to attack." He told her, gently. "You must be quick and precise. The slower the lunge and the wider the stance, the more of your body you give me as a cutting board."

Caroline dragged her teeth over her lower lip and held the end of the spear close to her chest before springing forwards again, managing to clip him on the shoulder with the point. He winced, reeling back, the tip sinking into his thin leather with the force only a blunted edge could do. He would have a bruise there come later.

He stared at her, approvingly. It had been a very long time since someone had been able to lay their blade on him. The She-Wolf was more distracting than he previously thought.

"You didn't answer my question." Niklaus said, pointedly, smacking the shaft of the spear against hers.

"Why should I?" Caroline asked, defiantly.

Niklaus smirked, although slight anger welling up at her insolence. "Because I was kind enough to entertain you today." He said, slyly. "You may have died from boredom otherwise. Dorne _obviously_ doesn't have enough to hold your attention for very long." His voice was tinged with disdain.

Caroline tensed. "Can you truly blame me?" She asked, quietly. "This is my prison. I didn't do anything _wrong_." She hissed.

Niklaus pulled back, frowning, an angry disbelief surging inside him. "You didn't do anything _wrong_?" He said, incredulously. "Your actions started a war. Many died."

"No one – least of all I – _asked_ Tyler to start a war for me." Caroline snapped. "He didn't even _know_ me. He had heard stupid stories from Matthew and believed it to be love and fate and everything in a song. Am I responsible for one man's delusion? And all my father and brother wanted was to rescue me. It was the Mad King that started the war when he murdered my family." She muttered.

"So, Stefan took you against your will, then." Niklaus said, pointedly.

As he said these words, he realised with horrific comprehension that his beloved little sister had forgiven and _defended_ a man who had kidnapped a highborn lady from her bed and held her hostage, while his wife and children rotted in the home of his mad father. Fury thrummed underneath the skin. Would that he could run his spear through Stefan's heart and watch him wither the way Rebekah's face had withered on that fateful day he had placed a crown of blue winter roses in Caroline Stark's lap.

"I went _willingly_ at first." Caroline murmured, almost mockingly. Niklaus started, shock and sudden fury slipping into his eyes. "He was the Prince and I could hardly refuse." She said, pointedly, and his face shuttered. "And I had no desire to marry Lord Baratheon. But after I learned that the Mad King murdered my father and brother, I wanted to leave – _I begged_ – but he wouldn't let me. Not until I gave him his prophecy child. His so eagerly desired Visenya." Her voice ended in a whisper so bitter that made Niklaus think that she hadn't told anyone this until him.

"Then you weren't truly willing." Niklaus said, sombrely, uncharacteristically for him.

He didn't know why he was willing to believe in the innocence of this girl who had admitted to his face her indifference to his sister's almost ruin. He should use their sparring as a chance to cut her throat and avenge his sister's honour, but all the girl had wanted was freedom. Freedom that had been denied to her by everyone around her that she loved. Her own brothers and father were determined to shut her up in a cage and Stefan Targaryen, whether married or not, was the only man willing to offer her something different.

He had never been one to underestimate women. He was the blood of Nymeria, after all. He knew the power that lay underneath a woman's soft, supple skin. And a woman like Caroline Stark was not made to be a Southern lack-wit lady that simpered and sang songs of knights and valour as if they were true. She _knew_ they weren't true. She was ice and fire and blood and death in one beautiful body.

Nevertheless, Caroline continued.

"I raged and raged and raged, but he wouldn't let me go until I had borne him a child. He wanted a girl, but I gave him a boy. A boy I named for the wolf in his heart – _the Stark in him_ –, not for one of those dragonriding idiots he went on about." She said, triumphantly. Her face fell. "I loved him. Then I realised that he only wanted me for his stupid prophecy. I realised I was just a child. A stupid child. I was everything I had tried so hard not to become. Nothing more." She paused. "Now thousands and thousands of innocent men, women and children are dead because I was a child." She whispered.

Niklaus cleared his throat. "You were a child." He agreed. "A stupid child. But children may be stupid. And men who should have been smarter and less of children made even greater mistakes than you did." He said, darkly. "It is not fair for you to pay for their mistakes."

Caroline laughed, harshly. "You are too kind, Prince Niklaus. Considering your sister's husband was the man I ran away with." She said, grimly.

Niklaus' face darkened. "Stefan made his own choices. Choices that hurt my sister as much as they hurt you and this realm. He should not sit on the throne. He does not deserve it. He does not deserve my sister or her children. Nor does he deserve you." He spat.

"He doesn't deserve my son either. But he took him from me all the same." Caroline said, bitterly. "And my brother handed him over without a word of protest. I will never see him again." Her voice fell quiet, her face clouded with grief and hate and pain, and marvellously, she shook her head. "All I can do is sit here and wait for death." She said, finally.

Niklaus was silent, unsure of what to say next.

"Sitting here would be boring." He finally said, a slow smile working onto his face. "Waiting for death would be accepting an undeserved punishment."

Caroline frowned. "What do you think I should do instead?" She asked, curiously, once she was pushed back by his spear yet again.

Whatever he may be – philanderer, drunk, hedonist – the Prince was good with his weapon.

"Fight." Niklaus said, sharply, knocking her feet back. "Fuck. Delight. Anything you want."

Caroline's blade lashed out and clipped on the shoulder with a harsh clang that it sent him to one knee in front of her, as if she were a queen. When he looked up at her, her cheeks were flushed with pride, skin damp with sweat, blonde curls flitting about her face as if they were made of air itself and blue-green eyes bright and beautiful.

Unbowed, unbent, unbroken.

He smiled.

He could get used to this one – her heart like ice, her blood like fire.

Stefan had taken his sweet sister and turned her into a doll that turned her head to his dishonour and insults with a smile on her face. He would not take this girl – with such pretty, sharp wolf-teeth – as well.

She had been fierce, when her feet first touched the sand in Sunspear.

He would make her deadly.


	8. Ms Brightside (Klaroline)

**Ms. Brightside**

 **In which Caroline really wants to punch Tyler in the face and Klaus is both happy that things worked out in his favour, but mourns the fact that Caroline had to get hurt for it to work out.**

 _So, this is my foray back into the unattached drabbles territory. And it kind of satisfied my inner rage at the way TVD's been going lately, as well as how much I wanted to punch Tyler in the face in the first couple of episodes of Season 4. Plus, I'm still like 60% sure that he did really cheat on Caroline with Hayley, but, hey, that's just my opinion._

He wanted to comfort her, to melt her warmth into him and burrow her deep inside his skin so that she was protected from the world. The girl with the sunshine hair and universe-defying optimism, who now orchestrated the pageant with an iron fist and haunted eyes.

He didn't like this look on her.

"Hello, Caroline," Klaus approached her, steadily.

Caroline spun around, took one quick look at him and rolled her eyes. "Oh, great, just what I need right now. _You_." She said, snidely.

Klaus held a hand to his heart, mockingly, not wanting to admit how much her disregard actually hurt him. "You wound me, love." He hummed.

"Clearly not enough or you wouldn't be here." Caroline muttered under her breath. "What do you want?" She asked, after a moment.

Klaus shrugged. "I just wanted to see how you were doing." He said, honestly.

Caroline shook her head, a sardonic smile flitting onto his face. "One, I am not having this conversation with you, and two," She sighed. "Why are you the only person that has asked me that question?" She whispered, looking away.

Klaus took it as a chance to move forward. "No ulterior motive, I promise." He said, cautiously. "I just want to know if you're feeling alright after everything."

"You mean, after my boyfriend admitted to cheating on me on with his so-called hybrid whisperer friend, the whole time I was worried sick that he might be in pain. Or _worse_." Her voice broke.

"Yes, well, that." Klaus said, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

He pursed his lips, hesitating, before he gently took her by the arm and led her over to a nearby bench.

"It's okay." Caroline said, quickly, once she sat down. She brushed hair away from her face. " _I'm okay_. I mean, if you think about it, we weren't even together all that long, and for most of that time, he was gone. It shouldn't hurt this much. Tyler and I are over. I should move on. It should stop hurting by now. It's not like I can do anything to change what happened." She whispered.

"It hurts because you love him." Klaus said, soberly. He hesitated before taking a seat next to her, their thighs almost touching. "In 1919, when my family was in New Orleans, Rebekah engaged the services of a witch to send out a message to Mikael, telling him where I was."

"Wait, what?" Caroline turned incredulous, blue-green eyes onto him.

"She is still unaware that I know this," Klaus explained. "But she and the man she was in love with at the time sought an existence where I couldn't be there to spoil their fun, so she brought Mikael to New Orleans with the intention of him chasing me off or perhaps even killing me." He said, impassively. "As I said before, she doesn't know that I know of her betrayal, so I cannot be completely certain as to her motives. Anyway, Mikael came to New Orleans, there was a skirmish and Rebekah's beau was killed in the crossfire and we all fled. After losing Mikael, we landed in Chicago where we met Stefan. Mikael was only too quick to ruin that and I daggered Rebekah, compelled Stefan's memories away and the rest is as you know it."

Caroline bit her lip. "Did you ever forgive her?" She asked, curiously.

Klaus shook his head. "No. I had moved on; she had been daggered. But I can't stop resenting her for what she did. Because it was her and I never believed that Rebekah could go to such lengths to remove me from her life." He said, wistfully. "Despite our differences, despite my daggering of her, she is still my little sister and I still think of her as such. To learn that _she_ had betrayed me to Mikael is something that I can never forget."

He turned to Caroline, his face thoughtful and sincere, and she knew she believed every word he was saying. It was no con, to get her to go out with him, or sleep with him, or whatever his endgame with him was. It was the big bad Original Hybrid Niklaus Mikaelson, simply telling her a truth about him that she doubted many knew. And she believed him.

"It hurts because, of all the people in the universe that could hurt you, you didn't expect Tyler to be one of them. You thought _he_ would be the one person who could never hurt you and that shock of having him betray you is worse than the actual betrayal itself. It hurts that much because you expected more from him and he disappointed you. Time will pass and the pain from his betrayal will fade, but the disillusionment you felt about the boy you loved will remain there in the back of your mind." He finished, soberly.

Caroline took a deep breath and looked down at her knees, before cracking a smile.

"Why would you even tell me any of this?" She asked, incredulously.

Klaus stared at her for a moment. "Because I understand." He said, sombrely.

Caroline smirked. "Doesn't it hurt your perfect, evil-villain image to spill your guts to me?" She asked, teasingly.

"Are you saying that my fear factor's declined since I shared my heart with you, Caroline Forbes?" Klaus shot back, just as playful.

Caroline snorted. "Fear factor? Seriously? You have dimples, for God's sake." She gestured, wildly.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how much time the dimples save with my evil villain work." Klaus tipped his chin up in mock-superiority.

Caroline laughed. She couldn't help it. She just started giggling at the faux-arrogant look on his face. Hell, she didn't even think she was capable of it at the moment. But there she was, unable to stop herself from _convulsing_ at her laughter. After a minute or so, she finally pulled back enough of herself that she stopped and stared at him with such wondrous disbelief.

"How do you know me so well?" Caroline asked, her blue-green eyes piercing into his.

Klaus ran his tongue over his lower lip. "You remind me… of me. Actually." He confessed. "Before." He waved off. He leaned in. "There was a time when I was not evil, Caroline." He said, quietly. "A time where all I wanted was to matter. And I didn't. I wouldn't wish that on you."

His voice was soft and mellow and it had her heart clenching.

Caroline's hands trembled against her thighs. "Why do you think I think I don't matter?" She asked, curiously.

"I can see it in your eyes." Klaus said, kindly. "You don't want anyone else to think you weak, but there is doubt in your eyes."

"I don't doubt myself." Caroline argued.

"Logically, no. You're aware of your own strengths enough to know that you _should_ matter. But emotionally, you can't help but blame yourself every time someone in your life disappoints you, hurts you. Maybe it's _you_. Maybe if there was something different about _you_ , they wouldn't have done what they did." He finished, dolefully.

"And how do you know all that psycho-babble applies to me?" Caroline waved off, her eyes cold.

"Because I can see it in your eyes." Klaus murmured. "Because I used to – and even now, sometimes – see it in mine as well."

Caroline felt her throat tighten in response to his words and she shook her head. "You didn't come out here to give me therapy, Klaus." She said, firmly. "Why are you here?"

"Well," His face lit up and his eyes twinkled, any trace of his former severity missing. "I was hoping that you would agree to accompany me to the Mystic Falls pageant." He said, gently. "The reigning Miss Mystic Falls deserves to go out with a bang."

Caroline stared at him for a moment. "You know what?" She felt something brim inside of her, filling her with a sort of resoluteness that she had missed. "I would love to go." She said, sincerely.

* * *

Caroline stormed over to a bus-boy. "Hey, why am I bussing your tables?" She asked, furiously, slamming down the champagne glasses onto his tray. "I said no empty glasses." She snapped.

The bus-boy walked off, thoroughly terrified, and Caroline strode over to the orchestra, the adrenaline making her walk confident to the point of arrogance.

"Will you guys pick up the tempo?!" She snapped her fingers at them, using what she had Bonnie had once termed 'Bitch Face No. 23' to push the point across. "This is a pageant, not a funeral." She flung.

She spun on her feet and made to walk away, but not before she caught sight of a pair of Testoni black formal shoes, and closed her eyes.

 _And let the fun begin._ She grimaced.

"And how am I doing?" His voice was smooth and it was almost as if he knew what his voice was doing to her.

 _Bastard_. She cursed.

Her eyes roved over him his immaculate and well-built form, dapper in a dark suit, no curl out of place, glinting, mischievous blue eyes – _perfect_ , and her heart skipped an involuntary beat.

"You'll… do." She said, reluctantly, pushing past him and grabbing him by the wrist as she did so, pulling him along with her.

She came to a sudden halt when she saw Tyler walking up the lawn towards the house. At his side, clutching his arm, was Hayley, dressed in a skimpy red dress that had no place at an event such as this. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. She had hoped that Tyler would at least have the sensitivity to not flaunt his new werewolf toy in front of the whole of Mystic Falls, at an event that was supposed to be _hers_. He knew that, he knew how much this day meant to her, and he still brought her _here_. For a moment, she saw red and she wanted nothing more than to storm over there and gouge their eyes out with her nails, if it would make her feel better. But she doubted anything would erase the feeling of her entire world coming off its hinges.

She ground her teeth. If Tyler Lockwood and his new plaything sought to cheat her out of her hour in the sun – especially after everything she had stomached and pretended it didn't hurt this year, they would have another thing coming.

"They didn't waste any time, did they?" Klaus said, quietly, judgment glinting in his cornflower-blue eyes as they roved over Tyler and Hayley.

Who, in their right minds, would prefer the werewolf girl over Caroline?

It just proved that he hadn't chosen Tyler as his first hybrid due to his extensive intellectual capacity.

Caroline grimaced, ashamed that she was so obviously humiliated. In front of Klaus, nonetheless.

"Let's just get today over with." She muttered under her breath.

* * *

He loomed over her, five feet ten inches of gorgeous Original Hybrid who smelled delicious and radiated a lethal sex appeal – something she was sure that he was fully aware of – that had her wanting to wrap herself around him and to hell with the damn consequences.

"Would you like to dance, Caroline?" He held out his hand.

Caroline bit her lip, and then caught sight of a slightly tipsy Tyler twirling Hayley around the dance floor as if he owned it.

 _Moron. He sucks at dancing._ She thought, bitterly.

"I'd love to." She said, sincerely, and took his hand.

His palm was warm on the curve of her hip and she could feel the heat of him bleeding into her skin. He whirled her around the dance floor with the grace and elegance that she had already witnessed at the ball thrown by the collective Mikaelson brood – back when they were _all_ up and running – although she imagined he wouldn't take too well to her bringing up the sorry state of affairs where his mother had linked them all together with the intention that they would die because she was a psycho bitch who was too stupid to realise that maybe, _just maybe_ turning her kids into blood-sucking psychopaths might not be the greatest idea.

"You're distracted, love." Klaus hummed in her ear, the scruff on his jaw tickling the skin of her cheekbone. "How can I remedy that?"

Caroline snorted. "You know, I can see that you're trying to be smooth and I appreciate your effort, but the whole Casanova routine's not really working for me." She shot back.

Klaus grinned, boyishly, down at her. He didn't smile like that – all carefree and untroubled and without the weight of the world on his shoulders – very often. She thought it a good look on him. She wanted him to smile like that more. Preferably at her.

He leaned down. "I think it is." He purred.

She shivered and scowled at him, knowing that he knew what his voice at that low growl did to her, sending goosebumps puckering on her skin. Molten heat rolled through her, pooling between her thighs and making her ache with suppressed longing.

 _Jerk_.

"Just… keep dancing." She hissed at him, a furious blush staining her cheeks, which only made his grin widen.

Footsteps sounded behind her and she closed her eyes in resignation, not needing to actually look to know who had approached them.

 _Just when I was starting to accept the fact that I'm having fun with Klaus, of all people._

She sighed. "What do you want, Tyler?"

His hand was hot on her shoulder as he forcibly pulled her around to face him, breaking her out of Klaus' grasp. As he did so, she watched Klaus' muscles tense imperceptibly, in his suit. She was even touched by his sense of protectiveness.

"What the hell, Care!" Tyler barked (the irony was not lost on her). "We break up like a few days ago, and you're already on a date with _him_!" He glared over the top of her head.

Caroline grimaced. "It's not a date. And you know what? I don't have to justify myself to you." She snapped back. "Do you know why? Because, in case you forgot, we broke up like a _week_ ago, so therefore, who I am or am not seeing, or screwing, is no longer any of your damn business. So, back off!"

Klaus' hand slid up her arm and she felt herself soften, just the slightest. "Easy, love, you're making a scene." He said, smoothly. "I doubt this is how you want to remember your moment in the sun."

His voice was soothing and knowing and again she wondered how did he know her so well.

Tyler snorted, throwing the sight of Klaus' hand on her a scathing, derisive look. "Typical Caroline. Jumps into bed with monsters to make herself feel better." He spat.

Caroline laughed, bitterly, feeling anger and dismay thumping in a gruesome beat under her skin.

"Wow, you rented me out like a cheap whore to get what you want and then you made me think you were doing me a favour by giving me some purpose in your life while you played Hybrid Knight in Shining Armour with the bitchy werewolf with whom you cheated on me, and you're pissed at _me_ for actually feeling something for the guy who's treated me better in a single day than you did ever since you broke the sire bond?" She asked, incredulously.

Tyler's face was white by the time her spiel had finished and she could see the apoplectic rage practically slopping out.

"Caroline, I-" He began, tersely, obviously in an attempt to defend himself.

Caroline had finally had enough. She had enough of Tyler defending himself, him acting like it was such _hard work_ being her boyfriend when she had done nothing but fight for him, him acting like it was fucking _understandable_ , hell, even reasonable for him to screw the werewolf bitch while he had her pining away here in Mystic Falls; Elena acting like the whole world revolved around her and God forbid she actually told the truth for once, instead of having to pretend so _Elena_ wouldn't be unhappy, as if she owed her any loyalty after she just admitted to being half in love with Caroline's rapist.

If she was so loved, if she had so many friends that she could rely on, why was it that only Klaus had bothered to make sure she was doing alright?

"You know what, Tyler, I could not be more uninterested in what you have to say." She said, sharply, shutting him down, right then and there.

She spun around to face Klaus, who was watching her with curiosity, amusement and she could even see pride in the curve of his mouth. It filled her with a strange sort of delight, that he approved of what she was saying, how she was saying it. Perhaps it was the sudden disillusionment in the people who were supposed to be her friends, but she found herself looking at Klaus in ways that she had seen before but never allowed to get too far, for fear that she would topple down a rabbit hole like Alice and never show up on the other side. They weren't all that different. All she did was cover the monster in her belly with sunshine in her smiles. She pretended to be human, where Klaus owned who he was, unashamedly. She wondered, in a century or so, if she would feel comfortable enough to be like him. Would the parts of her that were still human just fade away, as it clearly had for him?

"I want to go for a walk. Preferably somewhere other than here." She said, swiftly.

"If you think I'm just going to let you leave with _him_ -" Tyler began, hotly.

"Seriously, Tyler, if you don't back the fuck off in the next five seconds, I'm going to pop you one in the mouth." Caroline bared her teeth in a snarl.

"Caroline-"

"Five-"

"You can't just-"

"Four-"

"I'd move along if I were you, mate." Klaus interjected, his hands bravely spanning the width of her shoulders. "I wouldn't want this event to end in a massacre. And believe me, it won't be Caroline doing all the bloodletting." He said, his voice sharp and cold and pointed.

Caroline pointed at him. "What he said."

"Caroline, you can't seriously be choosing _him_ -"

Caroline shrugged, cutting him off. "He has his uses. Right now, they're helping me make you _leave me alone_." She turned to Klaus. "Can we go?" She asked, impatiently.

Klaus held out his arm. "Of course."

The smirk he shot Tyler as he led Caroline away from him and a furious, but silent Hayley was nothing less than smug.

"Lovely speech, sweetheart." Klaus leaned in, as they walked away. "I am very proud of you."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Why? Because I bitched out my ex-boyfriend in front of pretty much the entire town, who will most likely be gossiping about why exactly we broke up, who exactly was the cause, and what exactly I did to make him cheat on me with the suspiciously low-brow werewolf chick?" She sobered. "That's not something to be proud of." She grimaced. "I never thought I'd say half of those things out loud." She said, quietly.

"Perhaps this was the last straw?" Klaus wondered out loud.

Caroline shook her head. "I have no clue. All I know… is that it felt good." She murmured, despite herself. She shivered. "Okay, I don't want to talk about this anymore. Distract me." She ordered.

Klaus ducked his head and smiled. "Very well. Now, assuming this date is going well, may I ask what our next date will be?"

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "You're assuming there's going to be a 'next date'?" She asked, incredulously.

His eyes brightened. "Isn't there?" He asked, teasingly.

"Klaus…" She began, uncertainly.

"How about a movie?" Klaus asked, quickly. "You can even put two seats in between us, if you'd like." His grin was roguish and it sent her hormones flying into unknown directions across the universe.

Caroline snorted. "If only your legions of minions and people who are scared to death of you could see you now." She smirked. "Alright, fine," She said, reluctantly, walking ahead of him. She rounded on him, her face fierce but teasing. "But you're paying and you better get me one of those jumbo Slushies."


	9. Let's Chase Each Other Around the Room

**In which Caroline's pretty sure that Klaus and her got their wires crossed on this whole 'marriage-of-convenience' thing.**

 _Okay, fun fact #1 you should probably know about me is that I'm crazily addicted to Tamil soap operas. They're misogynistic as hell and they use the same plots over and over again (with the same few actors and actresses, believe me) but I can't seem to stop watching them and this (and probably the next few) are just inspired by some of the scenes that I've been watching._

 _Oh, and yes, I am giving the whole present tense thing again another whirl because I had so much fun with it in the last drabble._

 _And FYI, this is actually the shortest drabble I think I've written and I still managed to get to 2K which makes me feel very happy and I may have a problem._

* * *

Caroline sighs as she looks up at the stars. She fans herself once, twice and then three times, inwardly cursing Klaus. The heat is clinging to her skin and she's stuck on this stupid porch and she hates life even more than usual.

Finally, he pulls his motorbike up to the curb and parks it, swinging off one leg at a time, slinging his bag over one shoulder. His eyes widen just the slightest when he sees her, but beyond that, he doesn't display any curiosity as to why she is lounging on the porch like it's that teal sofa she was admiring in IKEA the other weekend.

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" She growls, patience officially depleted. "How long do you expect me to wait for you?"

Klaus scowls (because while her bossy attitude was interesting and adorable at first, it got old seriously quick). "Who asked you to _wait_ for me? I gave you a set of keys for this precise reason."

The way he looks at her, like she's stupid – it's so insulting, is it any wonder that she simply has to talk back?

Caroline scoffs. "If I had the keys on me, do you really think I'd be waiting out here for you?" She grimaces. "Forgot them when I left in the morning."

She hates to admit when she's made a mistake.

But seriously, why else would she be loitering on the damned porch at ten at night?

Klaus softens. "You forgot your keys? You should've called, love."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, like you would've rushed home if I had." She says, tartly.

Klaus snorts. "Rushed home? I was thinking more along the lines of coming back _tomorrow_." He mocks.

 _Prick._

Caroline pushes down a sound of outrage. She grits her teeth instead. "Just… open the door." She orders, blue-green eyes flashing with a frustration that informs him that she's in no mood for his brand of sarcasm.

"Don't think I'm one of those boys you can just order around, sweetheart," He warns, but stalks past her anyway.

He holds his key fob to the intercom system outside the double doors. There is a shrill beep and a sharp hiss and the doors swing open. Caroline grimaces and shoves past him, entering the apartment complex.

It isn't a giant apartment, just a studio, with a door opening into a hallway, a kitchen and bathroom on either side, which opened into a large bedroom, but it is more than big enough for one person or happily-married two people (as they were pretending to be – because apparently Caroline did something incredibly awful to someone in a past life and she's paying for her sins _right the fuck now_ ).

It is an unfortunate consequence of their agreement that they are forced to share Klaus' small-but-voguish apartment – at least for the near future. But, honestly, the one million she would get at the end of the year would be enough to start her event-planning business and for that, she could and would stomach Klaus' miserable attitude – no matter how much he made her want to claw her eyes out. And it wasn't like he was getting nothing out of the deal – his crazy mother (whom Caroline thought was a total Norma Bates type) added a clause in her will that Klaus couldn't get a share of his family's wealth without getting married (and for some reason, he was the only sibling with that stipulation, even though Kol was a way bigger manwhore than him any day) and that was where Caroline had unfortunately gotten involved in things.

She waits impatiently (can't he tell by the bouncing of her feet?) as he unlocks the door and storms inside, dropping her handbag in a heap on the hall table beside the front door. She is looking at something on her phone as she walks further into the apartment, so she can be excused for not seeing Klaus' back as she rams straight into him.

"What the hell?" She mutters in anger, opening her mouth to say something along the lines of _what moron just randomly stops in the middle of the hallway like that?_

But, unfortunately, she doesn't get to, because at that moment, he turns on her, his jaw twitching in anger (and it is a nice jaw, actually, strong with rough, golden stubble – _not_ that she was looking or anything, because he's just her benefactor, nothing more).

"Who did you give your keys to?" He asks, his voice clipped.

Caroline frowns – what an odd question. "No one. Why?"

Klaus' smile is grim. "See for yourself." He says, dramatically, sweeping to the side.

Caroline wants to tell him that just because he looks like some cheesy 80s movie villain, doesn't mean he has to actually _act like one_ , but all of her witty comebacks (which were totally awesome, by the way) suddenly die in her throat when she finally _sees_ the bedroom.

"Holy crap." She breathes.

Because what else is she supposed to say when the bedroom is covered (head to toe, God's honest truth) in rose petals. They are literally strewn _everywhere_. Across the carpet, over the bedspread, _everywhere_. There are candles burning along the four walls. There's a champagne bucket, water already condensing on the rim, accompanied by two glasses.

 _Are those chocolate-covered strawberries?_

Righteous anger curdles inside her and she rounds on him, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, blue-green eyes disbelieving.

"You-you… you _pervert_!" She shrieks.

"What?" Klaus snaps.

"You think just because I agreed to pretend to be your wife for a year, I'll just… what? Put out?" She seethes. "Look, yes, I may have agreed to this dumb Harlequin idea of a marriage so I can get a million dollars _for my business_ , but I draw the line at having sex with you _for money_ , you pig."

" _What_?"

This time, his voice is almost embarrassingly high-pitched.

"How long, huh?" She demands. "How long have you been planning this cheap wedding night fantasy plan, you creep?"

The way he recoils, it would be amusing if she weren't ready to haemorrhage.

"Look," Her hands her on her hips. "Touch me, and I will-I will literally rip it off with my bare hands." She threatens.

There is no question about what _it_ is.

"Oh, please," He scowls. " _You_ touch _me_ and I may have to go find one of those chemical showers."

Oh, hell no.

His eyes dawn with some confusing realisation. "Now, everything makes sense."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Now I understand why you were so keen to move out of the mansion and back into my apartment. Don't try that innocent babe in the woods act on me. I see right through it." He wags his finger like he's figured everything out. "You're the one that demanded that we come and live in my apartment because you were afraid that my family would realise that this whole marriage was for show if we stayed too long with them. Like a fool, I believed you. But now I realise, you were only trying to get me alone so you could get me under your thumb. Well, I'm not the kind of guy whose head turns by a pretty face, love."

"Oh, _shut up_!" Caroline snaps, practically jumping on her feet. She shoves past him, knocking into his shoulder, and throws open the drawer of the hall table. She snatches her keys up and storms back over, jingling her keys in his face pointedly. "See, my keys have been here _the entire fucking day_. So, how the hell would I have locked the door from the outside? But yours have been with you. Ergo, _you_ planned this."

"Who, me?"

"What, you think by putting the blame on me, I'll just get scared. Please."

"You think _I_ did this?"

"Of course, who else?"

"Listen, love, don't just pass the back to cover up your own tracks."

"Oh, my God, do you even hear yourself? Look, you don't know me very well, but as angry as I am right now, I could _kill_ you right now."

Her phone rings shrilly and she curses, walking back over to her handbag and reaching for her phone. She frowns at the display. Katherine always did know the best time to call. She answers it and greets her friend abruptly, glaring at Klaus as she does so.

"Did you have to call _right_ now? We're kind of fighting, you know." She growls. "Do we really have to talk at this moment? Can't it wait for tomorrow?"

"Come on, Care. Tonight's not the night for fighting," Caroline can practically _hear_ Katherine's eyebrows waggling.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Tonight's your do-over wedding night." Katherine beams like she's just announced she bought Caroline a BMW and totally not just ruined her life.

" _What_?"

The shriek makes Katherine wince into the phone.

"Wait," Caroline's eyes dawn with horror. "Did _you_ set this up?"

"Who else?" Katherine scoffs.

Caroline closes her eyes. _Shit._

"I was going to tell you beforehand, but I thought just leaving it for you to find be more romantic and all that jazz."

She will kill Katherine tomorrow.

"Enzo and I did it together. Seeing as you and Klaus just eloped like a bunch of high-schoolers, we wanted to do something nice for our bestie,"

Scratch that, she will kill Katherine _and_ Enzo tomorrow.

"Okay, look, we went to a lot of trouble to set all of that up, so like don't screw it all up by having sex on the floor or anything, okay? Cause we both know champagne turns you on."

"Oh, my _God_ , Kat," Caroline hisses, shooting Klaus a nervous look, hoping like hell he hadn't heard what Katherine had just said.

Katherine laughs that kitten-purr laugh of hers. "Come on, Care, he's your husband; he should know by now what gets you going."

Caroline rolls her eyes.

"Who the hell asked you to do any of this?" She growls.

Katherine sighs. "Care, you had your wedding night under a roof where your husband's numerous siblings were staying, I'm doing you a solid."

"How did you even get in here?" Caroline demands.

"We got the keys from your next-door neighbour," Katherine says, lightly, and honestly she should've seen this coming because it is right up Katherine's alley. "She was _very_ accommodating." She pauses. "I think she was into Enzo. Of course, she was like forty-four and in Juicy sweatpants."

"Fuck, Kat, now I have to hear all kinds of crap from Klaus about this," She snaps. "Next time, can you please just _ask_ me? Or tell me, so I can do damage control." A frustrated noise leaves her throat. "I'm putting the phone down now."

She ends the call and throws the phone back into her handbag unceremoniously. She looks down at the floor, but there is no way in hell that Klaus is simply going to leave it just like that. He struts over to her, smugly.

"So, did we get confirmation that it was _your_ friend who set this up?"

No one that handsome has any right to be that much of an arse.

Caroline grimaces. "Sorry," She says, incredibly reluctantly.

"Just sorry?"

"It was Kat and Enzo's fault!" Caroline argues. "They're insane and stupid. What can I do about that?"

"And all your threats about castration and murder?" Klaus asks, mockingly.

"Yeah, I'll murder _her_ and castrate Enzo." Caroline mutters. "Just wait until I get my hands on them." She stomps her foot. "Look, I said I'm sorry! Can you just drop it?"

She storms past him into the bedroom and immediately starts swiping at the rose petals with her feet.

"Oh, so you say sorry and I'm just supposed to let it go?" Klaus shakes his head. "Of all the women I could've made this agreement with, I had to pick a mental asylum escapee."

She lunges for the champagne bottle, ready to chuck it at his head, before thinking better of it and puts it back in the ice bottle. Why waste a perfectly good bottle on his thick skull anyway?

Somewhere in between cleaning up the rose petals, they start throwing them at each other, irritation beginning anew. In her defence, he started it first when he shook out the bedspread in her face.

One particularly aggressive sweep of the broom and he growls in her face, his blonde curls streaked with red.

"Do that again and I'll-"

"Well, don't just leave all the rubbish on _my_ side then!"

She chucks a strawberry at him.

"Caroline!"

"I have to _sleep_!" She defends.

Although maybe, just maybe, that was her venting some of her frustration.

"Not even two billion dollars is worth this kind of torture," Klaus groans. "I should've just let my mother give it all to charity. At least, it would've counted as a good deed."

She lunges for the champagne bottle again.


	10. Wild Things Run Fast (Klaroline)

**In which Caroline runs away and it's actually sort of fulfilling.**

 _Okay, so this was written/first imagined with the whole problem of Klaus settling down in New Orleans when I don't believe that Caroline (the real Caroline, not the pod person that took over her body after Klaus left) would stick around in Mystic Falls unless she absolutely had to. With all that wanderlust in her, I don't think she'd want to be tied down to NOLA like she was to Mystic Falls and we all know she deserves better than sticking around in one city for the rest of her existence. By the way, the places mentioned in this drabble are Girona (Spain), Lapland (Finland) and Salisbury (England). All are incredible places and I urge you all to visit them!_

* * *

The first time, he finds her in the outskirts of Girona. She's busy taking selfies of herself against the blue-yellow-orange walls of those cute little buildings when he casually strides up to her once she lowers her phone.

Honestly, she's surprised it took him so long – he's kind of obsessive about people making a break for it.

"Well, you look like you're having fun." He says, casually, hands shoved into his pocket carelessly as he strides towards her.

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Well, duh," She says, dryly.

There's a flicker of a smile on his solemn face before his jawline tenses.

"Somehow I didn't expect to find you here," He intones.

"Here, as in Spain? Or here, as in _not_ New Orleans?" She challenges.

And that jawline tightens further.

"You _left_." He accuses.

Caroline raises an eyebrow. "I left you a note." She says, loftily.

"A note," He scoffs.

Caroline crosses her arms over her chest. "I couldn't stay there." She admits.

This time, Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Because it was such a hardship for you?" He says, dryly.

"No, because it was sucking the life out of me," Caroline confesses, brutally, making Klaus flinch.

"The city or me?" Klaus asks, coldly.

Caroline's shoulders slump and she approaches him as one might a wounded animal. She reaches up and curls a hand around the back of his neck, bringing him close to press her mouth against his sweetly.

"Klaus, it wasn't _you_ I was walking away from." She insists. "It's just-" She sighs. "Look, New Orleans is _your_ dream. It's _your_ city. And I stuck around because I love you and it made you happy and you happy makes _me_ happy. But I don't want it to be my life." She bites her lip. "That's why I left. It had nothing to do with you, Klaus."

"Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?" Klaus asks, his voice clipped with anger.

"Yeah, because you're so easy to talk to," Caroline says, sarcastically. "Look, I was never intending to be gone for long. I just needed a break from New Orleans and I was always going to come back," She soothes.

"So, I just sit in New Orleans, waiting for you to return from your _holiday_?"

"You were the one who promised to take me wherever I wanted to go." Caroline snaps then.

"I'm sorry if my responsibilities of ruling a kingdom ate into your travel plans after graduation, love," He retorts.

"Don't talk down to me!" Caroline hisses, taking a furious step forward. "I'm not some gold-digging teenage airhead expecting you to shell out a free trip to fucking Moscow in your private jet every time I ask. _You_ were the one who told me to get the hell out of Mystic Falls and instead, you shoved me into another small town."

"New Orleans is hardly the same as Mystic Falls," Klaus argues because _he's just not getting it_.

"No, but it represents the same thing!" Caroline stamps her foot. "And if you can't understand that, then you're not the same guy that promised to take me wherever I wanted to go."

Her words cut him but she intends them to, even if she said them in some slight hope that he would at least try and understand where she was coming from. Maybe it is selfish and childish, but she doesn't want to settle down and play pretend queen of a city she feels nothing towards. But she had, for the past three years; she had done it because Klaus is her guy and she knows it makes him happy. For that alone, she would never have walked out on him if every moment she spent in New Orleans didn't literally feel like dog years.

"So, what?" Klaus challenges. "You go globetrotting and I wait in New Orleans like a good little boy for you to come back?"

Caroline smirks because the image of that is too good to be true. "I don't think you've _ever_ been a good little boy,"

"Don't joke," Klaus growls and it is a testament to how far they've come when she rolls her eyes instead of feeling that instinctive little thump of fear in her heart every time she talked back to him in Mystic Falls (because, hey, she wasn't an idiot; slightly reckless sometimes, but she always knew what he was and what he could do to her if she pushed him over the edge).

Caroline sighs. She places tentative hands on his shoulders and pulls him close because the warmth of him against her is always nice to have.

"I will come back," She promises, lowly, leaning on her toes in those pretty panda flats she had bought on an impulse buy a few weeks ago in a street market in Modena a few weeks ago, and pressing her forehead against his. "I'd never _leave_ you, Klaus. I just… I need some time away from the New Orleans of it all, but _you're_ still my forever." She hesitates, because this next question of hers may just make or break them (because if he isn't willing to give it to her, can he really be her forever?). "Can you trust me to come back to you?"

She waits as a myriad of emotions pass over Klaus' face before his expression settles on resignation.

"I want _you_ , Caroline," He admits, and she knows how hard it is for him to say that, right to her face even. "I'm not happy about being even a second away from you, but I also don't want to tie you down to a place you don't want to be in." His eyes search hers. "I believe you will return to me when you are ready."

Some of the tension slides out of her shoulders because there was that part of her –the part of her that had been left behind one too many times – that was afraid of just what his answer would be.

She clears her throat and nods. "Great," She pauses. "Did you want to go for lunch, maybe?"

* * *

The next time he finds her (because obviously waiting didn't mean staying away), she's in Lapland, hovering over the Giant's Kettle thoughtfully.

"If you're going to jump, I suggest you don't think so hard."

Caroline smiles and reaches out a hand absentmindedly which Klaus takes from behind.

"Will you jump with me?" She asks, coyly, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

His eyes rove over the subtle red flush to her skin from the sauna in Rovaniemi.

"Are you sure there is anything else you would rather spend your time doing?" He asks, lowly, his eyes slick with heat.

Caroline bites her lip and the indecision is clear on her face. After all, being a committed relationship with the Original Hybrid (who could do dangerous things with his fingers) had left her spoilt where her sex life was concerned and celibacy, now that they were separated geographically semi-permanently, has certainly put a damper on that.

But, in the end, she wants to make these memories _with_ him, so she shakes her head.

"Maybe later," She concedes, because she's sure once she's jumped into the rift, she'll want to him to warm her up and that'll definitely lead to sexy times. "So, jumping, yay or nay?"

His hand is comforting in hers because there's still that very human part of her that thinks she's stupid for wanting to jump into a freaking pothole. But his thumb strokes over her knuckles and her shoulders loosen.

And suddenly, they're soaring through the air and landing in the frozen water and she screams and he laughs and _it is perfect_.

* * *

The third time he finds her, it's been four years since their last meeting and along her travels, she's heard something about some long-lost sire lines showing up in New Orleans and she knows Klaus would never take that the right way and apparently it had ended in some great, big bloodbath and she almost wishes she could've seen it go down (as a spectator, only, because her days of legendary vampiric battles are totally over). He's kept his eyes on her, of course, especially with the new threat in his city, and vampires drop by every now and then with a message or a gift or a letter and she sends postcards and souvenirs and she posts cute Instagram photos with witty tags, which does wonders for her loneliness but it's not the same as _actually_ having him there with her.

Anyway, so, the third time he finds her, she's taken a little detour on her whole globetrotting adventures. Apparently, there's this vampire serial killer making serious moves in Salisbury and Caroline hadn't been able to bite down her curiosity and worry, so she had, of course, gone to investigate once she was in the area.

Vigilantism isn't the new rage, but it does wonders for her inner adrenaline junkie. She's not stupid enough to confront the prick who's butchering the bodies of adolescent girls and leaving them to be found in the town square face-to-face, because he could easily be centuries older than her and wouldn't that be just a monumentally stupid idea. Instead, she takes the sneaky route and compels any potential victim to make like a tree before they get gruesomely murdered. Unfortunately, her whole justice crusade inevitably catches up to her and that's how she finds herself with a stake shoved into her stomach and the wall behind her as her throat chokes with blood.

The serial killer (Edmund Drayton, if anyone was wondering) in question is handsome, she'll give him that. Tall, dark hair, unassumingly gentle hazel eyes. The kind of guy that human her would've gone for in a second (and did, considering Damon), which just makes the anger curdle in her because all she had wanted to do was make sure that no other girl ended up like she did, clawing at the sheets and at his face as his teeth ripped into her neck and his hand dug between her legs.

"You're that baby vampire Klaus Mikaelson likes to shag, aren't you?" He asks, cocking her head, as if he's incredibly curious about her reply.

She bares her teeth instead.

She hates that, how people _define_ her by the man she's screwing. As if her life revolves around him. If it did, she'd be in New Orleans now. But it doesn't and she isn't and it just pisses her off more.

He sighs. "Pity, my dear, because this means your death will have to be quick. I can't have the Hybrid showing up here and-"

His sentence cuts off brutally when a hand slides through the flesh of his stomach, sticking out of his abdomen crudely. Suddenly, he is yanked away from her by that very grip and thrown into the opposite wall, Klaus' hand sliding out of him with a dreadful squelch that has Caroline biting down the bile.

"Unfortunately," Klaus' voice is smooth with threat. "I won't be as understanding with you."

The ensuing fight is quick and messy and Edmund is left in thick sluggish pools of flesh on the floor, an arm and leg in the corner and his head still clasped in Klaus' hand.

"Anger issues much," She comments.

He gives her a withering look. "Perhaps if you hadn't been so foolish so as to hunt a four-hundred-year-old vampire with a fetish for violating and slaughtering young women, I wouldn't have had to resort to _this_." He gestures to the carnage at his feet.

Caroline snorts. "You haven't changed a bit. You're still blaming everyone else for your own shortcomings, you jerk." She hisses.

Yesterday, she would've totally been throwing herself at him and kissing him like his life depended upon it, but the second he had victim-blamed her, any goodwill had disappeared.

"You could've _died_ , Caroline," Klaus snaps, and it's obvious that his goodwill for her is in low quantities as well. "All because you wanted to play superhero."

Their separation has not done them so well, she thinks. Four years is a long time to go without seeing him and she recognises the truth of that in the tension between them now.

She never wanted it this way.

Klaus drags a weary hand across his face, ignoring the streaks of blood that bloomed on his skin.

"I'm sorry," He says, suddenly.

Caroline softens.

"Yeah, I know," She says, quietly.

His eyes centre on the wound, grim and bloody through her shirt, in her stomach, and he's at her side in a moment.

"You need blood," His teeth tear into his wrist and he holds it up to her mouth.

Once she finishes, her thumb sweeps away any crimson still clinging to her mouth and she drops her hand to her side, shifting awkwardly.

"Thanks,"

Klaus shakes his head. "You never have to thank me, Caroline." His lips twitch. "I will always come for you."

Her eyes water, much to her annoyance. _This_ was the Klaus she had wanted to appear. Without much ceremony, she slips into his arms and curls against his chest like a wounded kitten, her nose jutting against his collarbone. His arms come to rest around her, one a band around her waist and the other twisting in her hair, matted with dirt and sweat.

"I've missed you," She confesses, her voice muffled.

His chuckle drums through her. "I've missed you too, love," He pauses and his hesitation is very vulnerable, which only makes her chest ache. "I don't want to pressure you, but it would make me very happy if you would come home now."

Caroline knows how much it cost to ask that now. It's been on the tip of his tongue for the past five years, but he hasn't brought the request (and really, she's proud that it is a request and not a demand – character growth, obviously) out into the world until this moment. She doesn't need to look beyond his eyes to know that whatever altercation that happened in New Orleans has changed something indelibly between them. There's a new tension to him that she hasn't exactly aided by not being near him (and considering how close she came to dying today, she's almost agreeing with him). But she won't apologise for that. She won't apologise for having her time in the sun and she knows he would never expect her to.

Is it sad that he's at a stage in his life where he wants to settle and she just wants to wander? Yes. But she's had five years of freedom which hasn't dulled the ache in her chest of not seeing him in the last four. So, maybe globetrotting can be put on hold for the moment while she just revels in him and no, she doesn't think that's giving up a piece of herself by falling in with what he wants for her, because at the end of the day, she wants _him_ and she hasn't _had_ him for four years.

She has eternity to run, after all.

"Okay."


	11. baby lick me

This was written for the Klaroline deleted kiss challenge on Tumblr; I was challenged by two of my favourite girls ever, WrecklessRighter and austennerdita2533 to write a mini drabble for this, and actually, this is the shortest thing I've ever written. I'm almost amazed at and proud of myself for holding back.

By the way, if anyone's confused, the deleted kiss is the one between Klaus and Caroline that supposedly happened during the shooting for 4X07 (My Brother's Keeper). Apparently, Julie Plec cut it out because it was "quick" and "silly" and we would've been disappointed. Psh, what a moron.

* * *

 **baby lick me**

Honestly, it wasn't her fault, _it really wasn't_.

In an effort to snatch back that damned Mystic Falls application from his hands, and wipe that _stupid, smug smirk_ off his face, she tripped over some rock that was lying hidden in the grass (because wasn't the universe just against her) and fell straight into his arms.

Not that she liked it at all, but she was kind of glad that he caught her, before she could embarrass herself even more in front of him and topple to the ground in a heap in these heels that were _not_ made for walking.

So, she just sort of stayed like that for a moment, trapped (not-so unwillingly but that was something she'd never admit even on her deathbed) in his arms, unable to take a single breath further. Grasping onto his forearms (she hadn't even noticed how muscled his forearms were before now), she hefted herself up, ignoring the way his eyes watched her intently, his features devoid of any amusement now (clearly, their impromptu embrace had knocked _him_ sideways as well).

Looking at him now, his hands curled around her elbows as if he feared she would fall if he let her go, she found herself wondering why she had agreed to this ridiculous drama that Tyler and his new werewolf gal-pal had insisted she put on, especially if it left her feeling like this, her heart pattering incessantly and a reluctant red flush on her cheeks like she was still fifteen-years-old and waiting to be kissed for the first time.

And, joy, now that she had thought about kissing, she just _had_ to look down at his lips, redder than hers with lipstick on, and very inviting. And just at that moment, he chose to run his tongue over his lower lip, either out of nerves or perhaps it was some lame attempt at seduction. Nevertheless, it worked and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off his face – it was a pretty face, really, all sharp angles and roguish blue eyes, like every bad boy fantasy she had ever had wrapped up in one nice package (and no, Damon didn't count - rapists _never_ count).

For his part, he didn't seem like he could take his eyes off her either. But they didn't stray past her jaw, choosing to focus on her lips instead.

She cleared her throat, averting her gaze finally. "Okay, you can let go now." She said, sternly.

Klaus' lips twitched. "It took you that long to tell me that?"

Caroline scowled. "I tripped. I'm still coming off the adrenaline rush." She said, defensively.

"Oh, I believe you," Klaus said, dryly. "Is that why you still haven't let go of me yet?"

Caroline paled and looked down at her hands, stark-white against the dark of his suit; she pulled them away, abruptly, which made Klaus chuckle, lowly, a nice, smooth sound which had her blushing all over again.

"Oh, shut up," Caroline muttered.

"And," Klaus began and Caroline just knew he was going to say something else smug. "I notice you haven't told me to let you go either."

Caroline scowled, just now remembering the touch of his hands on her elbows. She shook him away, dramatically, taking a step back and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I was just..." Caroline trailed off, uncertainly. "... wrapped up in something. Yeah, that's it. I was just wrapped up in something. In case you forgot, I'm the one in charge of this pageant. I actually have work to do. I don't have time to just waste with you." She said, quickly.

Klaus snorted. "Yes, I'm sure that's the reason." He took a step forward, cockily, coming into her personal space.

Caroline furrowed her brow. "What are you doing?" She asked, nervously.

He was close enough for her to see the flicker of gold in his otherwise cornflower-blue eyes.

"Just testing out your theory," Klaus said, innocently. "Are you still wrapped up in all that work you have to do, love?" He asked, almost taunting her.

"Stop it, Klaus," Caroline snapped, but it was weak to her ears and he knew it as well.

He took another step forward.

"Look, I don't know what you think you're going to prove but-"

She didn't even get to finish her sentence before he was kissing her firmly on the mouth. It wasn't one of those long, drawn-out things. It was deft, determined and matter-of-fact (almost like Klaus himself), and he didn't give her much time to even consider the whole fact that _he was kissing her_ before he was pulling away and taking a step back.

Once her brain had rebooted and was working in good shape, there was a small part of her (a _very_ small part of her, this was something she was very clear on) that acknowledged that, terrible consequences aside, Klaus was a _very_ good kisser. Like right up there in her top four. Hell, he even beat out Matt (sorry, Matt) and she had loved him.

"My mistake," He said, quietly, a strange softness to his features that she only ever found herself witnessing when he was with her. "It seems you were wrapped up in something, after all."

And when he left her standing there, a quick word about another glass of champagne, she had to stop her fingers from grazing her mouth where it was still tingling.


End file.
